An Unconventional Circumstance
by Incogneat-o
Summary: Sweeney's contrasting and difficult emotions bring about a huge problem. How will this affect Sweeney's, Mrs. Lovett's, Toby's, Anthony's, and Johanna's lives? Read and find out. -Takes place after Little Priest-
1. Prologue

**A/N**: **So yeah...first Sweeney Todd fanfiction I've written, and I haven't written a fanfic since like two years ago, lol. So constructive criticism is appreciated! :D But rudeness is not. D: **

**Also, none of the lovably tragic, deliciously creepy, or wonderfully horrible characters of Sweeney Todd belong to me. They are, in fact, creations of the original mind of Stephen Sondheim. **

**Now that that's out of the way...LET US BEGIN!**

Sweeney paced his room as he thought about the events that preceded that very moment. It had been a very long day, no debating that. He had killed Pirelli, almost killed the Judge save for that blasted sailor, and conjured up a deliciously evil idea with his landlady. His mind was racing, his blood pounding, and he found that he couldn't sit still for one second. He had done a million things to try and calm himself; unfolded each one of his razors, watched them glint in the moonlight, refolded them, and repeated the process about a dozen times; built his reclining chair, took it apart again, and rebuilt it just to make sure it was working properly, and countless other things. It was nearly 2 am, but Sweeney had not gotten one wink of sleep.

It wasn't that something was troubling Sweeney, but more that something was exciting him. The idea of their newly concocted plan brought Sweeney to the edge of his seat with anticipation. It was something to distract himself from the Judge and something to let his anger out on. This new, fresh, intoxicating plan excited Sweeney beyond all the levels of excitement he had felt in many years. He felt strange, almost aroused. But not happy. Never happy. Still, he felt as if he couldn't hold in all of his excitement for long.

A thought crossed Sweeney's mind, but as soon as he thought it he scolded himself. How could he think something so horrid? So disgusting? So perverse? But the thought wouldn't go away. It had intruded on his mind and now that it had taken up residence, it wasn't leaving. It was like a constant bell ringing in the back of his mind for hours on end. _Ding, go to her room, dong, go to her room, ding, dong, ding, dong, go to her room... _

But no! Sweeney wouldn't give in, wouldn't betray his wife. No matter how long she has been dead, he couldn't do that to his Lucy. His sweet, lovable, beautiful Lucy...

Finally, Sweeney couldn't take it anymore. If he didn't distract himself with something, he would surely crack.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Mrs. Lovett had just put on her night dress before she caught sight of herself in her small mirror. Her unruly mane of hair was down and looked worse than it usually did. She sighed. If this so called brilliant plan of hers worked, she would be finally able to do something about her hair. She twirled a lock of hair in her finger, trying to smooth out its frizz. Mrs. Lovett frowned at her pale complexion in the mirror before deciding she had degraded herself enough. She left her mirror and curled up in her tiny bed, thinking.

She thought about how different things would be now. How business might actually pick up for once. But most importantly, she thought about how Mr. Todd called her all those affectionate names. _Love, pet, sweet, dear, _they all repeated themselves inside her head. Maybe he didn't mean anything by them but it did comfort her to think Mr. Todd might be coming around to her. She thought about how maybe he was impressed by her wit and cleverness. How maybe he really meant it when he called her charming and practical...

Mrs. Lovett sighed. She would probably never know. Mr. Todd was probably up in his room, thinking about his dear old Lucy anyway. Mrs. Lovett scoffed. _Why couldn't Mr. T think of me in that way?_

Mrs. Lovett dozed off for a couple of hours before she was awoken again by a small sound. She blinked, trying to see in the darkness but to no avail. She shrugged. _Probably just a critter _she thought.

"Mrs. Lovett," said a whispered voice, low and husky. She recognized it as Mr. Todd's. His breath was warm on her skin, but it still gave her chills. "Care if I join you?"


	2. Dream Sequence

**A/N:** **Yay! Three comments! I know this was a quick update but I felt like writing. I probably usually won't update this often. I'm kind of not happy with this chapter but I hope you all enjoy it! **

**Reviews make me happy :3**

**And all of the original characters belong to Stephen Sondheim etc, etc. **

Mrs. Lovett woke up that next morning feeling extremely odd. She had the strangest yet most pleasant dream last night. First she dreamed she was running down the dark alleyways of London, trying to escape a mob of children holding spatulas and pans. A door opened out of nowhere and she entered it, hoping for some kind of refuge. Inside there was a crowd of men with cleavers and knives. They smiled menacingly at her and started to advance towards her. She turned back around to escape out the front door only to find another man standing in front of it. He was completely in shadows, but Mrs. Lovett could still make him out. As Sweeney stepped out of the shadows, Mrs. Lovett saw that he was holding his razors. He raised them and started walking towards her, the corner of his mouth twitching with anticipation. Terrified, Mrs. Lovett turned around again. However, instead of the crowd of men, she saw Toby and an elegant looking dinner table. The young lad was lighting candles and setting them on the table. She turned yet again to Sweeney, who was holding a bouquet of roses. He extended them towards her and spoke,

"Mrs. Lovett, care if I join you?"

The rest of the dream was a blur to Mrs. Lovett, and she did not feel like pondering about it anymore. She sat up in her minuscule bed, stretched out her arms, and yawned. Her feet hit something soft yet large on the floor as she swung them off the bed, and she let out a high-pitched yelp.

"Mmph," said the muffled voice of Sweeney Todd.

"Bloody 'ell Mr. T! Wha' you doin' on the floor?" cried Mrs. Lovett.

Sweeney looked up at her, bleary eyed and looking strangely more depressed than usual.

"Are you...are you saying you don't remember?"

"Don't remember what?" But as Mrs. Lovett spoke these words, she began to remember exactly. Mr. Todd. Her bedroom. At night. She suddenly remembered why her dream was so pleasant. Her hands flew up to her mouth as she tried to stifle a gasp.

"Mr. T! You...I...we..."

Sweeney sighed, groaned, and let out a growl of frustration all at the same time.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'd like if it we didn't speak about it again." He got up abruptly, fixed his clothes a little, and stepped towards the door.

"Mr. Todd, wait a minute..." Mrs. Lovett started to say. Sweeney turned around and faced her, a dead expression on his face.

"What?" he growled.

Mrs. Lovett fumbled with her words. She wasn't exactly sure what to say, and decided it'd be best to keep her curiosity to herself. "Never mind," she mumbled.

Sweeney turned around again, but stood still. "You didn't object," he whispered over his shoulder.

Mrs. Lovett looked down at her covers, blushing. "I know," she whispered when he had already exited her room and shut the door. She sighed to herself. The moment she had been waiting for finally happened and she wasn't even allowed to be happy.

But she couldn't help wondering _why_ he did it. Did he really have feelings for her? Maybe he had finally come around to her. This idea made Mrs. Lovett well up with joy, and she immediately hopped out of bed to get dressed.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Toby was downstairs eating one of Mrs. Lovett's meat pies. He had a massive headache from drinking so much gin the night before, but he still felt immensely happier since Pirelli had left, and hoped he wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd be able to live with Mrs. Lovett forever. Smiling, he bit down into his pie and chewed happily. As he was chewing he heard a high-pitched noise come from Mrs. Lovett's room.

"Mffs. Luffit?" he wondered aloud, his mouth full of crust and lard. He chewed faster and swallowed, wiped the crumbs off his face with his sleeve, and got up from his seat. Bravely, he started walking down the small corridor towards her room. "Mrs. Lovett? Are you okay?" he whispered timidly.

Toby nearly jumped back with fright as Sweeney Todd came out of her room. He stared right at Toby with his dark, cold eyes.

"M-m-Mr. Todd, I 'eard a noise coming from Mrs. Lovett's, uh, what are you–"

"Mrs. Lovett was just frightened by a spider, that's all. I came down to get rid of it for her. You best go back to the kitchen," interrupted Sweeney in a flat monotone. He didn't feel the need to charm his way around a ten-year-old boy.

Toby nodded, still frightened, and moved back into the kitchen as Sweeney ascended the stairs into his own room.


	3. Watch This

**A/N: Hey guys! I just came back from Disney World -WOO DISNEY!- today and I'm dead tired, but instead of wanting to go to sleep, I was just like 'Hey, I should totally continue my Sweeney Todd thingy. That would be so much better than sleeping!' And I'm sure most of you agree. -crowd nods and mutter about Sweeney Todd's superiority over everything-. **

**Well, that's enough of that. On with the show!...er...story. **

Toby hesitantly walked toward Mrs. Lovett's room after Mr. Todd had gone up to his room. Her door was closed, and for a while he just stood there and stared at the carvings in the wood. Toby didn't know why he was standing there, staring at nothing. He thought a couple of times to just go back into the kitchen and wait for her, but he felt as if he should go in and ask her what Mr. Todd was doing in her room. He definitely didn't buy the spider lie.

Finally after about ten minutes, Toby knocked softly on her door with a shaking hand. A soft, melodic voice came from within.

"Come in, love," said Mrs. Lovett.

Toby took a deep breath and grasped the cool door handle. He turned and pushed the door open. Mrs. Lovett was standing in front of her mirror trying to fix her hair. She turned to him with a surprised look on her face.

"Oh, Toby dear. I wasn' expectin' you. Wha's the matter? Is somethin' wrong? You're up a bit early now, aren't you?"

"Nothing's wrong, Mrs. Lovett. Not since I came 'ere." Toby smiled at her, taking a step inside. "Thank ya for all the pies, by the way."

Mrs. Lovett smiled warmly back at him. "Then what's the reason for you comin' into me bedroom?"

Toby blushed, suddenly embarrassed to be standing in a lady's room. "I, er, nothing really. I mean, s'not big a deal at all, really."

"Well if it's not a big a deal spit it out already!" Mrs. Lovett exclaimed with a hint of laughter.

Toby stood there awkwardly, shuffling his feet. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other before blurting out,

"Wha' was Mr. Todd doing in your room?"

Mrs. Lovett's laughter immediately died away and she stood there for a split second with a look of horror on her face. She quickly recovered, but looked down at her hands as she spoke.

"Mr. T was jus' helpin' me with somethin', tha's all, love. I lost somethin' and 'e was 'elping me find it. Best we don' waste all our time in 'ere though. 'Lots of customers to tend to." And with that, she was out of the room in a matter of seconds. Toby stood in her room for a moment, thinking, before following her out.

"Mrs. Lovett," he called. She didn't answer, but he found her kneading some dough nervously in the kitchen. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude or anythin'. I was 'onestly jus' curious. I'm really 'appy you took me in...mum." He smiled nervously, and Mrs. Lovett smiled back.

"I know you are, love, I know you are. S'good thing Pirelli said 'e wasn't comin' back then. Had some business or wha'ever to attend to. So it looks like you're stayin' here for a while longer."

Toby beamed up at her, but that didn't mean he still wasn't suspicious. No, he was very, very suspicious. But he needed hospitality, and Mrs. Lovett was the closest thing to a mother he's ever had.

**ooooooooooooooooooo**

Sweeney Todd was doing what he did best, pacing around his room plotting murders. A million different possibilities ran through his head.

_Kill the witness first, then kill the sin. Kill the boy, then Mrs. Lovett. No, kill Mrs. Lovett first, she's dreadfully annoying. The boy can wait. He'd probably be to stupid to realize she was dead anyway. Stupid Judge, this is all his fault. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have done such a stupid thing. I would still have Lucy. Lucy, Lucy, Lucy...Stupid what's-his-name. Shouldn't he have been asleep anyway? I thought young boys needed their energy. And he drank that whole bloody bottle of gin last night. Yes, good plan, kill the boy. He won't be missed much. Damn Judge Turpin..._

Sweeney realized he was rambling in his thoughts, but it was the only thing he could do. He knew he wouldn't actually kill the boy or Mrs. Lovett, but it let his anger and frustration out. He was ashamed at what he did, but he hoped that if none of them brought it up again they could both forget about it. He knew his real target, his real source of satisfaction. Killing that disgusting, lecherous, lying filth of a human being. The Judge was the one Sweeney had to focus on, but until then he had something to curb his blood lust.

And he couldn't wait to get started.

He had been sitting in his chair for what seemed like eternity when he heard Mrs. Lovett's footsteps on the stairs outside. She opened the door and put her hands on her hips.

"Alrigh' Mr. T. Are you ready to do this or not? I sent Toby to get me some supplies and 'e'll be back soon."

Sweeney nodded and moved towards the chest where Pirelli's body had been previously stuffed. Mrs. Lovett moved to the other side and together they lifted the top of the chest open, revealing the bloody mess. Sweeney took him by the shoulders as Mrs. Lovett grabbed his legs.

"Watch this," said Sweeney, grinning evilly. He stepped on a pedal near his barber chair and immediately a hole opened up that revealed the back corner of Mrs. Lovett's bake house.

Mrs. Lovett grinned just as evilly, and they both threw the body down.


	4. Distractions

**A/N: Yup, I like to update. The first part of this chapter is kind of confusing, but it's kind of supposed to be that way given how Sweeney is feeling. Though of course, if it does seem too confusing or if it doesn't flow well, please tell and I'll try and fix it :D. Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited**, **and added this story/me onto their alert list. **

**And remember, you're reviews give me inspiration!!**

**And sadly I don't own any of these characters. :'(**

It had been three weeks since that shameful night, but Sweeney still didn't feel any better. It felt awkward now, to be around her, despite the fact that she was always cheerful and upbeat around him. Business was booming after they had successfully made Pirelli-flavored pies and that made Mrs. Lovett ecstatic, and also very overly affectionate. He tried to make his message clear, but she obviously didn't get the message. And he didn't even know what sort of message he was trying to convey.

Things were different now, that was for sure. But for Sweeney it wasn't for the better. Whenever he crosses paths with her, he remembers flashes of that night and he can't get them out of his head. At first he was angry about it, now he was just befuddled. He had to repeatedly tell himself that it was a horrible thing to do and that he betrayed Lucy. Though even he had to admit that even though it was one of the worst decisions he'd ever made, it was the best night he'd had in 15 years. He remembered running his hands down the side of her soft body, kissing her red lips. Oh, but what a mistake that had been! She obviously thinks he's in love with her now, despite his blatant attempts at showing her he didn't.

Even though he wasn't sure himself...

The past two weeks he couldn't help noticing how warm her big brown eyes were, how her curly hair framed her face nicely, and how her dirty and ragged dresses hung to her slender figure.

Sweeney shook his head to dispel these thoughts, but still they clung on obstinately.

He couldn't help but appreciate the way she says good morning to him the minute he stumbles down from his room every day. The way she says his name with such tenderness and love. He thought about all the blood he's spilled on his shirts, and how she had been the one to scrub the spots out until they were nice and white again.

Sweeney, groaning in frustration, grabbed hold of his tea kettle and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and bounced back to his feet. He stared at it for a while, looking at his reflection in the cloudy metal. His wild black eyes stared back at him, but after staring for a while he swore he saw a hint of the man who once was Benjamin Barker in those eyes.

Sweeney heard a knock at his door. _Finally, _he thought. _A distraction. _He opened the door to a tall, heavy set man wearing a black coat and round spectacles. The man nodded to Sweeney and took a step inside.

"Good morrow, sir. Beautiful day, isn't it?" said the man.

"Yes, yes. Quite beautiful. What can I do for you today, sir?" Sweeney led him to the chair and the man sat down.

"Just a shave. I need to impress the ladies, you see, and I want to be as clean shaven as possible!"

"Well, then, you've come to the right man. Although it's a wonder they aren't impressed already, what with a man of your stature," said Sweeney, charming the man into relaxing. It worked immediately. The man laughed loudly and he undid his white cravat.

"Why yes, a wonder indeed," replied the man, still laughing.

Sweeney mixed the lather and began applying some to the man's face. He grabbed his razor and slowly brought it to the man's neck. He only managed to nick him a bit before he heard sounds of retching and moaning coming from downstairs, immediately followed by frantic cries.

"Mrs. Lovett! What's wrong!?"

Sweeney whipped his head towards the door, forgetting for a moment about his bleeding costumer. _What is going on down there?_ he wondered. He turned back to find that the man had touched the place where Sweeney had nicked his neck, and was now looking at the smear of blood on his finger.

"What the devil-" The man was cut short in the middle of his sentence by the cold metal of Sweeney's razor slashing across the rest of his throat. He stepped on the pedal and sent the man falling into the bake house.

Footsteps were coming up the stairs now and he knew it must be Toby. He ran outside and shut the door before the boy had reached the top of the stairs.

"Mr. Todd! Something's . . .'appened . . .to Mrs . . . LOVETT!" Toby gasped out.

**oooooooooooooooo**

Mrs. Lovett was lying on the floor, feeling sicker than she's ever felt before. She clutched her stomach and groaned again with agony. _Where had Toby gone?_ But before she could sit up to take a look, she felt a lurching in her stomach that made her roll over and vomit on the floor. She rolled back over and shut her eyes tightly, wishing the nausea to go away.

"Mrs. Lovett?" Called a cool, low voice.

Mrs. Lovett immediately tried to sit up, but a firm hand pushed her back down.

"Lemme up, dammit," she muttered, embarrassed to be found lying on the floor in her own vomit in front of Mr. Todd.

"Lay down. You're not well," said Mr. Todd. Mrs. Lovett had no choice but to obey. After taking one last look at Mr. Todd's face, which looked strangely anxious, she shut her eyes and tried to focus on not throwing up. She heard Toby's frightened voice.

"Is she going to die??"

"O' course not, silly boy," replied Mrs. Lovett weakly. "I'll be up on me feet again in no time. Don't you worry." Mrs. Lovett couldn't see whether or not that comforted him.

"If you want to be useful go get a washcloth and run it under some cold water," ordered Mr. Todd. Mrs. Lovett heard some footsteps and the sound of running water. Toby was back in a matter of seconds. Mrs. Lovett felt something cold press onto her forehead. It really did help. She focused on the water droplets falling from the cloth, soaking her hair. The coldness kept the nausea away and after a while she only felt weak.

"Thank you," she whispered. She didn't even know if they were still around her, but she thought she felt a warm hand brush a lock of hair from her face before she fell into a deep sleep.


	5. Helping Hands

**A/N: Next chapter . . .woot! I really like this chapter, so I hope you all do too. I'm very proud of the stats this story has gotten, even though they're minuscule. Plus, I'm having fun writing this so that's good. :D If you guy are curious:**

**Reviews: 8; Hits: 1010; Favorites: 6; Alerts 7.**

**I don't own these characters!!**

Sweeney didn't know why he stayed by her side. Maybe it was the way she looked so helpless. He would feel horrible leaving her by herself. He didn't even move her to her bedroom. She looked so peaceful, laying there quietly, and he didn't want to disturb her. So he sat there, watching her chest move up and down slowly with every breath. He made Toby stay out in the front of the shop to tell entering customers that they were closed today. He remembered the fit he threw earlier, wanting to stay.

"But Mr. Todd," Toby had whined, "I want to stay wit' Mrs. Lovett!"

"Go," Sweeney had growled.

"She'd rather me be with 'er than you!"

That had almost made Sweeney laugh. That was most likely not true.

"Please, let me stay!"

"Do you want customers coming in and seeing her like this? If you really cared for her you would do as I say."

Toby had narrowed his eyes and glared at Sweeney, but nevertheless turned on his heel and exited the parlor.

Now the sun was setting and the orange rays that were coming in through the windows fell right on Mrs. Lovett's eyes. She furrowed her brow and made a groaning sound. Her eyes opened and closed a couple of times before she shot up in a sitting position.

"The customers! The customers Mr. T, I forgot all about them!" She shrieked.

"Dammit, Mrs. Lovett, calm down," said Sweeney gruffly, trying to push her back down into a lying position while trying to ignore the sudden ringing in his ears caused by her screech. She stayed sitting up though, and pushed his hand aside.

"But what about the customers, and the pies, and the, the, the. . . ." Mrs. Lovett trailed off and looked at Sweeney. "Mr. Todd, 'ow long 'ave you been sitting next to me?"

Honestly, he didn't know. All he knew was that his legs were numb and that he wanted to go back upstairs. She was out for a very long time.

"We closed the shop so you don't have to worry about the customers," he answered, avoiding her second question.

"Well, that's good then. I think inhalin' the smell of corpses from the bake house made me sick. I should be better now though, so I'll be down again after I change me dress . . ." she frowned at her vomit soaked skirts.

Sweeney cleared his throat. What he was about to do was very hard for him, but he didn't want Mrs. Lovett to get any worse. For her sake and his.

"What is it, Mr. T? It looks like you've got somethin' on your mind. Not that you don't always do but, wha'ever." She looked up at him expectantly.

"Erm, well, I was thinking . . . maybe for a bit I should do the work in the bake house. That is, until you get better." He grimaced.

"Oh, Mr. T, that won't be necessary. I feel better already." She stood up and twirled around once to show him how un-sick she felt. A wave of dizziness washed through her and she grabbed on the edge of the table for support. Sweeney raised his eyebrows.

"On second thought," she said once she regained balance, "I think that's a good idea. Let me show you what you need to do."

After they both bathed and changed, Mrs. Lovett led Sweeney down the bake house.

"The first thing you'll need to do," said Mrs. Lovett once they were in, "is skin the meat off the bones. S'not particularly pleasant, and it's probably the worst thing to do down 'ere, but it's the most important. We can't be serving bones in our pies."

Sweeney nodded and watched as Mrs. Lovett picked out an arm from the pile of severed limbs and began skinning it.

"Then once you're done, pop it into the grinder. Then you grind it jus' like this." She began pushing the lever. "'Ere, you try it." She stood back and let Sweeney take hold of the lever. He was stronger than Mrs. Lovett, so naturally he did it much faster.

"Ah! Excellent," said Mrs. Lovett. She walked on the other side of the lever to watch him work. "Hmm, yes. You'll do just fine." She smiled at him.

Sweeney looked up at her smiling face and immediately turned away to look at the wall. He abruptly regretted it, knowing he probably offended her. He was right. The moment he turned back he saw that her face was a bright pink. At first he thought it was with embarrassment, but that quickly proved to be false.

"What?" She snapped. "What's wrong? Do I _revolt_ you, or somethin'? Am I _disgusting? _Every day I take care of you, I feed you, I clean your shirts. I'd do anything for you! Why do you find me so repulsive? Well, what is it then?!"

Sweeney just stared. The woman had obviously gone insane. Her eyes were wide with fury and outrage but all he could think of to do was stand very still, as if he was dealing with a wild animal.

"Get out," she said flatly.

"Mrs. Lovett, don't be rash. I didn't mean . . ."

Her eyes became slits. "I said get out."

He didn't know what else to do. He walked out the door of the bake house and before he slammed it shut he heard a quiet sob escape from her lips.


	6. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**A/N: Haha, I really need to stop writing so much. BUT I CAN'T STOP! Anyway, this is the next chapter, so . . . ENJOY!**

**Thankee mucho to those who favorited/alerted/reviewed! **

Mrs. Lovett stood by the grinder for an immeasurable amount of time before she slid to the floor. She hugged her knees tightly and sobbed into her skirts. It was embarrassing, she knew, to have yelled at Mr. Todd like that. Usually he was the one that did the shouting. But she was fed up. Fed up that she had spent so much of her energy trying to show that cold monster how much she cared about him. She never wanted to see him again.

But of course, she still loved him. How could she not? That night he had shown her how to feel again. He made her feel loved. Even if she really wasn't.

Her sobbing turned into soft whimpers as she lay down on her side and curled up. She felt loved that night, that was for sure. But she knew it probably didn't mean anything to him. He just used her as another distraction . . .

A fresh wave of hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she realized this.

"That bastard," she choked out to herself. The smell of dead bodies was making her feel nauseous again, so she raised herself slowly to her feet and exited the dank bake house.

**ooooooooooooooooo**

Toby was sitting anxiously outside the shop's entrance when he heard Mr. Todd open the side door and walk up the stairs. He heard him muttering to himself but he couldn't make out what he was saying. Peeking around the corner, Toby saw that Mr. Todd was clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Mr. Todd?" He called out. "Is Mrs. Lovett awake yet?"

Mr. Todd didn't stop walking as he turned his head and glared at Toby. He didn't answer, only turned back and kept walking. That's when Toby noticed something. There was something on Mr. Todd's left sleeve, but he couldn't quite make it out. He squinted his eyes and could almost barely see a red spot in the folds of the sleeve. Before he could say anything, Mr. Todd disappeared into his shop.

Toby didn't realize what he was doing until he looked down and saw his feet moving. Many times he told himself to just turn back, to go check on Mrs. Lovett. He was terrified of Mr. Todd, but the curiosity of a young boy can never be stifled. He gripped the door handle, turned slowly, and pushed open the door with a soft 'ding' from the bell chiming over head. Mr. Todd was facing him with an angry expression on his pale face.

**ooooooooooooooooo**

"What do you want?" Sweeney snarled.

The boy opened and closed his mouth a couple of times without saying anything.

"What!?" He was practically seething now.

"I was jus' curious about somethin' that's all!" Blurted Toby. His voice rose about 8 octaves while he spoke. "There's somethin' on your shirt an' I was jus' curious . . ."

Sweeney froze. _Damn! _He thought to himself. _I thought I finished him off cleanly._ His eyes moved from Toby, to his sleeve, to his razors, and back to Toby. His face was as immobile as stone.

"Mr. Todd . . . what's on your shirt?" Toby was eyeing him suspiciously now. He apparently could get a better look at the tiny bloodstain on his sleeve. Sweeney eyed his razors again.

**_She wouldn't like it if you killed the boy._**

Sweeney blinked. So now he was hearing voices?

"Go downstairs," he muttered.

"Mr. Todd, if you're –"

"DO AS I SAY!" Sweeney could barely control himself now. His need for keeping their little plan a secret and the duty of keeping his vow to Mrs. Lovett to not kill the boy were clashing violently with each other.

Toby almost tripped on his feet as he flung himself towards the door and darted down the stairs.

Sweeney was shaking with rage. He walked over to his razors, grabbed one, and slammed it into the table. He twisted it, hearing the wood splinter and break. He was thinking about the boy and how he was getting suspicious. And about Mrs. Lovett, who for some unfathomable reason now hated him. Though, he probably deserved it. He was rude to her after all . . .

Wait, what was he thinking? He offered to help that blasted woman! If anyone had to apologize, it was her.

There was a giant hole left after he pulled the razor out, so he took the razor box and placed it on top if it. He looked at the razor he used to puncture the table and frowned. There scratches all over it. He looked on the table to find some silver polish but couldn't find anything. Remembering the loose floorboard, from where Mrs. Lovett had procured his razors, he tried finding it again. He walked along the floor until he heard a very loud creak. Grinning, he pulled up the floor board and reached inside.

What his hand touched was not silver polish, but something soft and worn. He pulled it out to find an old journal that was almost falling apart. Its cover was made out of a dark-blue cloth with white and grey designs decorating it. Sweeney opened to the first page. The handwriting was unfamiliar yet elegant.

Curiosity overtook him, and he began to read.


	7. Discovering Nellie Lovett

**A/N: Oh my goodness! Thanks to everyone for those reviews!! I'm glad you all are enjoying it so far and I hope you like this next chapter as well! Also, I just wanna clear some stuff up about the years. Since the movie is supposed to take place in the early Victorian era, I'm making the present year 1839.  
**

_December 27__th__ , 1822_

_ I received this silly thing for Christmas from my mother. Honestly at first I never dreamed I would be writing in it, but the lack of someone to talk to is driving me to the point of insanity so I need to get it out somewhere (Ironically writing in a diary constitutes as talking to oneself and talking to oneself often means you are mad. But if this be the case, well then by god let me be mad!)._

_Two months ago I married a man named Albert Lovett. He's a jolly sort of fellow, I suppose, with as much girth as mirth. He owns a whole building (which is likely the reason why my mother was so impatient to see me married off to him) in which he owns a bakery business. He mostly sells pastries and bread. _

_ Another thing his building houses is a barber and his wife. _

_ My god, when I first saw him I thought I died and ascended into heaven. I remember our first encounter clearly, and will now record it here. _

"_Ah! Benjamin!" I heard my boisterous Albert cry from the parlour. I was in the bedroom, passing the time with needlework. "You must meet my new wife!" _

"_Well then I shall! Where is the lucky girl?" His voice was calm and smooth. _

_ I crossed my arms indignantly when I heard this. (I may only be nineteen, but I do not like being referred to as a 'girl'. I am a woman!). Albert's heavy footsteps echoed throughout the house and he stopped in front of the doorway. _

"_There she is! Come, Nellie, you must meet Benjamin!" _

_ At first I really cared less about meeting Benjamin. He already insulted me without knowing it and I was actually becoming absorbed in my needlework. But I knew it would be rude to refuse so I rose from my chair and walked with Albert to the parlour. _

_ The moment I laid my eyes on him I felt weak. His hair was a soft brown with gold undertones that I could only see because the sun was hitting it at just the right angle. His eyes were a dark brown, almost black, but they were warm and kind. He bowed. _

"_Benjamin Barker," he said. _

_ I curtsied and somehow almost managed to fall over. "N-Nellie Lovett." _

"_Charmed."_

_ He smiled and I nearly melted on the spot. _

Sweeney stopped. His throat was constricting and he felt as if he couldn't breathe. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. He didn't like this. He didn't like being reminded of who he once was, of how he once acted like. Once he recovered he flipped through a couple of pages. Maybe he could find something about . . . Lucy.

Sweeney wondered if he was turning into some sort of masochist. The memories this diary held would only cause him pain. Why was he searching for them? Was he that self destructive?

Lord only knows, and Sweeney read on.

_February 13__th__, 1823_

_ Today_ _is my twentieth birthday. I didn't receive anything of course, except for birthday wishes and a big cake made by Albert (eaten mostly by him). Benjamin and his wife also ate and drank champagne with us. It was quite entertaining when Albert started telling alcohol-induced stories about his past. No doubt they were made up seeing as most of them held accounts of him being uncharacteristically brave and chivalrous. _

_ I have a very outlandish birthday wish. I know it will never happen but it's all I want. I want Benjamin to magically decide he loves me more than his wife (Lucille or Leslie . . . her name escapes me)--_

Sweeney flinched.

_ -- and propose that we move near the English Channel. And somewhere in that little fantasy Albert would be accepting and let me go. Very outlandish indeed and I feel horrible thinking about it. First off, he's married. I'm married! He'd never leave his beautiful, blonde, pale wife for a woman like me. _

_ His wife wasn't much besides looks though. All smiles and no personality. Benjamin deserved a wife who could speak with a point of view. Someone like . . . me. _

Finally he decided not to read anymore. It was getting almost unbearable. He felt a tight knot in his stomach so he dropped the diary back under the floorboard.

_How dare she write that sort of thing!_ He cursed her mentally. But he knew he had no right to be angry at her. That was over 16 years ago. Plus, he had read her diary, intruded on her personal things. But what was it doing underneath his floorboard anyway?

Sweeney decided not to worry himself about that. But he wondered how he didn't notice how much she was obsessed with him. It was strange. All he was preoccupied with back then was Lucy and making enough money to support them and pay the fat man. He didn't even realize . . .

**oooooooooooooooooo**

Mrs. Lovett was in the kitchen making some tea. It's all she wanted right now. A nice, hot, cup of good old English tea. Toby walked in looking very flustered and scared.

"Toby love, what's the matter?"

Toby looked straight into her eyes with the most frightened expression she's ever seen on him. He just shook his head and sat down by the table.

"'Ow about I make you some tea, eh?" The tea kettle was starting to wail and she poured the hot tea into two big mugs.

"Thanks, mum," muttered Toby. He took the mug and began chugging it, not caring the tea was still steaming hot. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and stared off into the distance. Mrs. Lovett became worried. Toby wasn't usually this quiet. Nor did he usually have frightened expressions for no reason.

"Come on now, what's troubling you dear?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm jus' tired is all," he murmured almost inaudibly.

Mrs. Lovett frowned. The sun had just barely set. Toby was usually the most energetic around this time. But in fear of upsetting him more she took a sip of her tea and didn't say another word.


	8. Benjamin Barker

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Here's the next chapter :D **

**Oh, and I know I probably have a lot of grammatical errors (I'm bad at that) so if you spot any please tell me! **

Sweeney was walking through a foggy graveyard. It was pitch black and he could barely see two feet in front of him. He saw candles flickering up ahead and walked towards them in wonder. Who would be out here at this time of night? Not paying attention to what was in front of him, he stumbled over a tombstone.

"Shit," he muttered, checking his leg. There was blood gushing out of it which was starting to cover the tombstone. He traced the blood stained letters on the rock with his finger.

_Benjamin Barker_

_1799-1824_

_Loving father, friend, and husband_

Sweeney nearly gasped. His vision began to blur. He knew the pain in his leg was increasing but he could barely feel it.

"Shame ain't it?" Said a man's voice from behind. Sweeney whipped his head around and saw a man in a white coat holding a clipboard. "Died suddenly. No one knows why."

"That's me," Sweeney whispered. "That's me. I'm not dead!"

"Hmm, quite the contrary. This here Benjamin Barker is very dead. It's been fifteen years."

"NO!"Sweeney roared. "You don't understand! I'm him! Whoever is in that casket is _not_ Benjamin Barker!"

The man checked his clipboard. "Says here he was pronounced dead by a doctor named Sweeney Todd."

"No, you see, I'm Sweeney. And I am no doctor."

The man looked at him with a puzzled expression. "You just said you were Benjamin Barker. Just who are you, sir?"

"I . . .I . . ." Sweeney stared at the man and mouthed, "I don't know who I am."

The man's throat began to spurt blood but he kept talking as if nothing was wrong.

"Well you shouldn't be here so late at night, Mr. Whoever-You-Are. Best you run along." The man smiled as if he was talking to a toddler. Annoyed, Sweeney looked away from the man and towards the tombstone again. There were two women next to it. One was sobbing, the other was looking on calmly.

"Benjamin! My Benjamin! How could he be taken away from me so quickly?!" Wailed the sobbing one.

"There, there dear. It's not all bad," said the calm one. She looked straight at Sweeney with penetrating eyes.

"Mrs. Lovett," he whispered. The sobbing one turned her head towards him and Sweeney's heart nearly exploded. Her brown eyes were rimmed with red and her blonde hair looked all disheveled, but she was still there nonetheless.

"Lucy!" He cried. He tried to walk over to her but his leg was preventing him.

"Who are you?" She asked, terrified. "Nellie, who is that man? Why is he calling my name?"

"Lucy, it's me! It's Benjamin!" Why wasn't she overjoyed to see him?

"No," said Lucy, shaking her head. "No. You're the man that killed him, aren't you?!"

"No ma'am," said the man in the white coat. "He's the doctor that pronounced him dead."

"I'm not a doctor!" Growled Sweeney.

"He isn't! He's the murderer! Murderer!" Her tears turned red and she fell to the ground.

"NO! No! Don't die, please! I've already lost you once and it won't happen again!" Sweeney was sobbing but no tears fell on his face. He fell to the ground, crawled over to Lucy, and pulled her onto his lap. She turned to him and spoke,

"My Benjamin would never kill so many people," she whispered fiercely. "Just look around you." Sweeney did. The fog was gone now, and everything was abnormally bright. But on every one of the tombstones he could read '_Wanted a shave, sent to the grave._' He turned back to his wife with a face of remorse, but she was already gone. Instead he was holding his razors.

"Shame," said a calm voice. It was coming from Mrs. Lovett. "I would never abandon you like that."

"Shut up."

"I mean, she claimed she loved you, didn't she? And now she just up and left jus' cause you killed a couple of folk."

"Shut up!" He stood up, ignoring the pain in his leg. He gripped his razors tightly, thinking of how satisfactory it would be to see Mrs. Lovett's lifeless body fall limp to the ground.

"But I'd never do that, Mr. T." She looked into his eyes with her own warm ones. "I love you too much to do that."

Sweeney dropped his razors and woke up screaming.

**ooooooooooooooooooo**

Mrs. Lovett was laying in bed, quite unable to sleep. She already had a six-hour nap and she wasn't tired at all. So she stared at the ceiling, which wasn't very entertaining. Suddenly, she heard screaming.

_Toby! _Was her first instinctive thought. She bolted out of bed and down the hallway into the parlour. Toby was sleeping soundly on the couch, happily clutching an empty bottle of ale. She sighed and gently pried the bottle from his hands. _But then where did the screaming come from? Surely it wasn't from Mr. T . . ._ She decided she might as well check on him, even if he didn't deserve it.

She opened the side door and shivered. There was a biting wind and she was only wearing a night gown. She hurried quickly up the stairs and into the shop. Mr. Todd was leaning forward in his chair, his hands covering his face. Mrs. Lovett sighed. _He musta passed out in 'is chair and had a nightmare. _She walked to him and shook his shoulder.

"Mr. T, you ok?" He didn't move. She tried speaking louder. "'Ello?! Seriously Mr. T, get up."

Slowly, he lifted his face up and looked at her. Mrs. Lovett gasped. His face was white as bone and his eyes were bloodshot. It looked as if he had just risen from the grave. Before she could say another word he grasped her nightgown and pulled her towards him.

"Mr. Todd! What do you think you're doing?" She shrieked.

"Don't leave." He gently pulled down on her nightgown, signaling her to kneel. She did so. Mr. Todd drooped forward and lay his forehead on her shoulder. Mrs. Lovett was focusing on breathing normally. She was about to ask him what was wrong when she realized he'd been mumbling the whole time.

"Memories . . . so stupid . . . why'd I even bother? . . . foolish thing to do . . . Lucy . . . Mrs. Lovett . . . Mrs. Lovett! Why am I crying!?"

Mrs. Lovett lifted his face up. It was completely dry. "You're not crying."

"Well then why is it that I can't!?" He gripped the sides of her nightgown again. He was shaking. With anger or cold, she didn't know.

"There, there dear. It's not all bad. It was just a dream."

Mr. Todd shuddered and lay his forehead back on her shoulder.

And so Mrs. Lovett stayed there for the rest of the night. It was just like their previous night except they weren't in her room, and they weren't doing anything illegal.

Much to her dislike, but she would never admit that.


	9. All In My Head

**A/N: Sorry for taking longer than usual to update, I've been kinda busy. Well, read on. AND PLEASE REVIEW! :D**

**I don't own any of these people bladeeblaaaaa. **

Mrs. Lovett awoke lying on a cold wooden floor. Nothing from the previous night had registered in her brain quite yet and she wondered, in her half asleep state, whether she had been kid napped. Then she started recognizing the surroundings that sat on her peripheral. A chair, a chest, and a table with various assortments of colognes.

"Mr. Todd?" She called out. No one answered but she knew there was another presence in the room. She sat up to see him standing against the wall next to the door. He looked very tense, as if he was waiting for someone to come bursting through the door.

"What–" she began, but Mr. Todd put up his hand to stop her. Quickly, he opened the door and left the shop. He was back less than a minute later.

"The boy was coming up," he said. "Stopped him before he entered. Was wondering where you were so I told him you went to get supplies."

"Oh, and I'm sure 'e won't think twice about it when I come down from your shop with no such supplies," said Mrs. Lovett sarcastically.

"Well maybe you should jump out the window and go get some," he retorted coldly. They stared each other down, neither of them blinking for over a minute. Finally, Mrs. Lovett turned away. She wondered why he was being so mean again . . . she had stayed next to him for the whole night. _Maybe he's embarrassed, _thought Mrs. Lovett.

"I'm going to sneak downstairs and put on some clothes," she said, standing up. "Don't worry, I'll make sure 'e doesn't see me. Then I'll run over to Burkin's and get some 'supplies.'"

"Wait a second, Mrs. Lovett," said Mr. Todd right as Mrs. Lovett had put her hand on the doorhandle. Her heart skipped a beat upon hearing her name from him. She knew it was foolish to feel that way, he had only said her name, but she couldn't help it. She turned and crossed her arms, hoping he wouldn't be able to notice that her face was a deep scarlet.

"I think . . . I think we need to get rid of the boy."

Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened with shock. Her breaths started coming in shorter.

"What the bloody 'ell are you talking about Mr. T?!" she hissed. "The boy's done nothin wrong!"

"He's getting suspicious," responded Mr. Todd. He walked over to the table, picked up one of his razors from the box and started moving it from one hand to the other, admiring it.

"Now listen to me, Sweeney Todd." She sneered his name. "You are to never touch one hair on that boy's head. NEVER! Do you understand?" She glared at him until he spoke again.

"Fine," he said shortly. "Have it your way."

She didn't say another word but walked out of the shop, slamming the door shut behind her.

**ooooooooooooooooo**

Toby woke up lying on a warm soft couch. He sat up and examined his surroundings. Everything seemed too quiet. Mrs. Lovett should've been up by now, cleaning the kitchen or singing to herself. But it was way, way too quiet. He thought for one painful moment whether Mr. Todd had done something to her. Energized by this sudden kick of adrenaline, he rocketed off the couch and up the stairs to Mr. Todd's shop. Mr. Todd met him halfway up, as if he was expecting him.

"Toby." He acknowledged him with a quick nod of the head.

"Mr. Todd . . . I woke up and couldn' find Mrs. Lovett. Do you 'appen to know where she is?" He hoped he was giving him an accusing look.

"She just went out for a moment to get some supplies. I didn't realize you needed her constant presence to function, or else I would've told her not to have gone."

"Oh . . . well I guess I'll just go back down and wait for 'er then."

Mr. Todd didn't respond, only turned back around and disappeared into the shop. Toby glared daggers into his back and retreated down the steps. There wasn't much to be done downstairs since the lunch rush wasn't expected for another couple of hours. So Toby spent his time in the parlour looking through the minuscule book supply Mrs. Lovett owned. He couldn't read well, but he just liked to look at the words and pretend to know the story. He grabbed a random book off the shelf and blew dust off the cover. That's when he noticed something sticking out of the side. It looked like the corner of a piece of paper. Hesitantly, he pulled it out. It was an old, yellowed photograph. He heard a noise and dropped the photograph in surprise. _What could that 'ave been? _he wondered. He peeked around the corner of the parlour but saw nothing. He shrugged and picked up the photograph again to examine it closely.

Toby gasped. The man was younger and less troubled looking, but he had the same exact face of Mr. Todd. Toby squinted his eyes to be sure, but it was definitely him. He slipped the photograph into his pocket and grabbed another book to read.

**ooooooooooooooooooo**

After Mrs. Lovett 'returned' from Burkin's shop, the lunch rush began. It was never as bad as the dinner rush, but busy all the same. For some reason Mrs. Lovett was feeling way too tired to deal with the commotion and noise, but she felt too bad leaving it all up to Toby. And after what Mr. Todd had suggested, she didn't want to leave him by himself. So she worked, trying to cover up her fatigue with unusual peppiness, which she could tell unnerved many guests. She was wiping a table clean, humming an upbeat song to herself, when someone came up behind her.

"Ah, Nellie Lovett," said a cool voice. Mrs. Lovett turned around so she could face who had spoken to her, even though she could recognize the nasally, annoying voice anywhere.

"Natalie Mooney," responded Mrs. Lovett with a fake smile. She looked over Mrs. Mooney's expensive blue silk dress and pale blond hair done up all fancy-like. No doubt she was trying to show off how well her business was doing. Mrs. Mooney smiled back just as fake. "Come in for a pie?"

"No. I was actually wondering what made you so successful. Just curiosity, you know." Deceit was dripping from her every word. A wave of nausea rushed through Mrs. Lovett, and the familiar feeling of vomiting made its way up to her mouth. She had to get away, but Mrs. Mooney kept talking.

"Or are you attracting your business in a less honorable way?" She raised one eyebrow. _That bitch! _thought Mrs. Lovett. _Is she just accusing me of what I think she is? _

Another wave of nausea.

"You, Mrs. Mooney, are the most despicable excuse for a lady, business owner, and pie-maker. And you know what? The reason me pies are doing so much better than yours is 'cause I'm not using me neighbors' CATS!"

Then she vomited all over Mrs. Mooney's expensive blue silk dress.

"AUGH!" shrieked Mrs. Mooney. Other customers were turning around wondering what was happening. A few started laughing hysterically while others were expressing words of disgust. Mrs. Mooney frantically began trying to find something that would magically clean her dress, but to no avail.

"I-I'm sorry," she apologized quickly to her customers. She sprinted inside and into her bedroom.

"Oh dear lord, what's wrong wit' me?" She asked her bed covers. She was kneeling on the floor, her head against the side of her bed. Honestly she didn't think it was the corpses' smells, but what else could it be?

An idea popped into her head and her heart skipped a beat. _No . . . I can't be . . .can I? _Mrs. Lovett moaned. This was the last thing she needed right now. She inhaled deeply. Mr. Todd needed to know, and as much as she didn't want to see him right now, she needed some sort of support.

Or assurance that it was all in her head.


	10. The Truth

**A/N: So the stomach flu totally sucks. And tomorrow is my birthday. Crappy, eh? I decided to finish this chapter 'cause there's not much else I can do except sleep. So read and review and make me feel better!! :D**

The only thing Sweeney Todd could remember from the night before was the heart-wrenching nightmare. Sweeney always had nightmares, but not like this. They were usually filled with him trying to catch Lucy before she fell into a dark pit, or of slashing the Judge's throat open over and over again. But this dream held something more disturbing. It held the truth. His Lucy was gone, she was never coming back. The only person he had left was Mrs. Lovett. He knew she had spoken the truth. True, Lucy didn't abandon him in the dream's way, but he still felt as if she had unfairly ripped his heart from his chest. There were plenty of times in Australia when he had had the chance to kill himself, but he never took them. He wanted to come home, to see her face again, to watch their daughter grow. Couldn't she have waited as well? Couldn't she have waited for her beloved husband to come and teach that filthy judge a lesson? Or was he being selfish, wanting Lucy to have buried her pain of being abused before he came back after an unknown amount of time?

He sighed. The lunch rush had already begun and he had no customers to distract himself with. He paced in front of the window, watching the people come in and out of the shop. He began spotting potential customers. _Oh yes, that one there is traveling alone. Surely he won't be missed . . . That one looks particularly plump, he'd last for days . . . _

Suddenly he spotted Mrs. Lovett. She had just come out of the front door. He guessed she wanted to be a polite host, greeting the customers one by one as they entered, her slender frame full of energy. He found that strange. Had she ever done that before? Sweeney turned away from the window, suddenly wanting to find out more in Mrs. Lovett's diary. But this time he wasn't looking for something that mentioned Lucy, he was genuinely curious about Mrs. Lovett's thoughts. He found this feeling to be strange but found the loose floorboard and reached in for the worn blue diary.

_July 26th, 1823_

_Lucy has just announced that she is expecting I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous. That lucky twit, about to have a child with the most beautiful man on earth. I kind of pity her though. I've heard about the symptoms of pregnancy and know it is not very pleasant. She'll be tired all the time, and irritable. Maybe Benjamin will grow tired of her crankiness and realize I am his real destiny. _

Sweeney stopped. _Johanna. _He wanted to read about her birth. He barely remembered it. Eagerly, he flipped the pages until he found the day of her birth. Of course Mrs. Lovett wrote on that day.

_March 3__rd__, 1824_

_Benjamin's baby is beautiful, I have to admit. She looks more like her mother_ _though, with her yellow hair and dimpled smile. Benjamin was acting so sweetly when she was delivered, saying how adorable she was and gently touching her teeny little fingers. It was the happiest I've ever seen him act. _

"_She looks just like you," he cooed gently to his_ _simple little wife. _

_The jealousy monster took hold in my heart once again as I fantasized our own baby. She would look mostly like him, but with delicate, dainty features. She'd be the perfect little girl and grow up to be the most amiable young lady. Oh, look at me now. Being the fool that I am, I've started to cry._

Sweeney stopped. He was kind of disappointed that she didn't mention more about Johanna, and again he realized how oblivious he was to her obvious attraction to him. He thought about the younger Mrs. Lovett, with radiant red curls and a restless body that couldn't stand still. She was amusing to watch at times, and Sweeney remembered watching her move about the kitchen just for a laugh. She'd always make small talk, rushing and tripping over her words while her face stayed a constant shade of pink. He always thought that was how she always acted, but now he realized she had only acted that way around him. She had always seemed bored around other people, always gazing out the window, seeing things no one else saw, thinking things no one else knew. But around him she was like a little butterfly, fluttering and dancing about. And she still was, though now she seemed more like a frantic butterfly, like a bundle of nerves. _The stress of the years can get to anyone, even a butterfly, _mused Sweeney.

He heard footsteps. He quickly threw the diary back under the floorboard and stood up. Expecting a customer, he grabbed a brush and pretended to clean off the hair from the previous shaved man. Instead, Mrs. Lovett burst through the door looking very frazzled.

"Mr. T, we may have a problem on our hands."

**oooooooooooooooooo**

Mrs. Lovett was taken aback by Mr. Todd's expression. He actually seemed interested, and even concerned. She hesitated, not sure where to start.

"Yes Mrs. Lovett?"

She took a deep breath. "Well, er, I'm not sure 'ow to say this. We may . . . well I may . . . I think that . . . Well I'm not completely sure but . . . I think I may be . . . with child?" She held her breath as she took in Sweeney's reaction. At first his expression didn't change, he just stood there staring at her. Then it slowly started changing from confusion to anger, from grief to disbelief.

"Mr. Todd? Are you-"

"You're bloody kidding me, aren't you? Tell me you're not being serious."

"I'm sorry Mr. T but I'm afraid it might be true." Her voice was beginning to crack, tears almost spilling over. She was sick, she was tired, and she was afraid. She was anticipating the worst from him. She was just waiting for him to attack her, to yell at her, to roar in frustration. But he didn't. He stood there, staring at the ground.

"Well," he whispered almost inaudibly, "this is a problem, isn't it?"

Mrs. Lovett was confused. This definitely wasn't the reaction she was anticipating.

"Is that it?" she asked.

Mr. Todd raised his face to hers, an expression of defeat clouding his features. "What am I supposed to say? This is my own fault, I know. If I hadn't . . ." He slumped down in his chair and buried his face in his hands. Mrs. Lovett walked to him and tentatively laid her hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright Mr. T, s'not completely your fault."

"Yes it is!" He growled, lifting his face from his hands. "I betrayed her . . . even though she left me, I still betrayed her. And Johanna . . ."

"Hush now," she whispered. Mr. Todd had buried his face once again in his hands. She'd never seen him act so vulnerable before last night. It was kind of frightening. Like his mind was finally beginning to crack.

"It's ok love, she would forgive you. Don't worry. I'm 'ere for you now."

It was quiet for a while. Mrs. Lovett was too afraid to speak, scared that she might set him off. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Me too."


	11. Procrastinating

**A/N: This is a really short chapter mostly because I just have to explain Toby's thoughts. I'll post the next chapter soon (probably today if I'm feeling creative) which will hold many surprises ;) READ AND REVIEW! **

**I don't own any of these characters!**

Toby was mopping the floor. All of the customers had already left, too grossed out to eat anymore. He was worried about Mrs. Lovett, but he needed her to get better right away so he could explain his suspicions to her. First off, why was there a picture of him in one of her books? And secondly, why was there a bloodstain on his sleeve? He had a feeling Mr. Todd was a very dangerous man. He didn't want Mrs. Lovett to get hurt by him. They needed to go to the Judge, to get the police . . .

"Once Mrs. Lovett comes back downstairs I'll tell 'er," he said to himself.

He was bringing the mop and the rest of the uneaten pies back inside when Mrs. Lovett walked down the stairs. _Perfect timing! _He rushed over to her, ready to spill out everything he knew. But she beat him to it.

"Toby love, there's something I need to talk to you about."

Toby furrowed his brow in confusion. _Is she suspicious too?_

"Yes mum?"

"Well, I just want you to know that sometimes even adults can make mistakes. Take me for example. And Mr. Todd."

Toby's breath caught in his throat. _She's in on it! _

"Now, now. Don't look so distressed. It's jus' . . . well . . . we're goin' to 'ave a baby."

Toby wanted to laugh out with relief. He couldn't believe he almost thought Mrs. Lovett was part of an evil plot!

"Oh, is that it?" He chuckled. Mrs. Lovett frowned.

"You're not upset? Or disappointed? You do know we ain't married don't you?" Her tone was incredulous.

"I know. But it's not that bad." _Not as bad as I thought at least . . . but I can't tell 'er bout my suspicions now. She 'as too much to worry bout. Maybe after the baby is born. But can I wait tha' long? What if Mr. Todd does somethin' really bad? _

"Ah well, that's good then. I think. I jus' want you to know that almost all of London will be gossipin' about it everyday. So don't be too upset . . . with me."

"Mum, 'ow could I ever be upset with you! Don't worry bout me, and make sure you don't pay attention to those nobodies who feel like talkin' bout rumors all day long. You're betta' than any o' them." He grinned. She grinned back.

"Thank you, Toby. And I'll be needin' you to take care o' me during my . . . pregnancy. I know I'll never be able to keep track o' the food I eat." She giggled.

"I will mum, I will." _Now I really can't spring this news on 'er. I don't want to cause 'er anymore stress . . ._

But Toby knew he had to. Eventually, and before Mr. Todd did anything worse.


	12. Blackmail

**A/N: Woot next chapter. Uhh I don't really have anything to say except read and review please!**

**None of these characters are mine. -CRIES-**

It was four months after the "incident" and Mrs. Lovett was walking down the cobblestone paths of Fleet Street. It was an unseasonably warm March day and she decided to take a stroll for a little exercise. She wore her slightly bigger belly proudly now. She had endured too much gossip in the past two months to have it bother her anymore. A gaggle of older women passed her, pointing and shaking their heads, but she smiled widely.

"Morning ladies," she said politely. The old women scoffed and walked on. Mrs. Lovett walked more merrily through the streets. Today was an oddly cheerful day. Maybe it was the effect that the past absolutely marvelous months were having on her.

"Mrs. Lovett," Mr. Todd had greeted her one morning. "How are you feeling?" He had said it with so much concern and affection it was a wonder she had not fainted.

"Very well, thank you," she had managed to answer. He had stood there for a while, just looking at her, before retreating back up to his shop. He had done this periodically for a while. Recently, however, she had begun to notice him standing on the balcony of his shop just to watch her as she tended to customers. She found it extremely comforting, knowing he was looking after her.

She remembered one day in particular. It was a couple of days ago. She had been sitting in the parlour, eating some soup, when he suddenly appeared, causing her to slop the soup all over herself.

"Oh, bugger," she had muttered. Mr. Todd had frantically apologized and tried to find a cloth. He had grabbed the closest thing to him and extended it towards Mrs. Lovett. She had been about to take it when suddenly he pulled away.

"I'll, er, do it." Mrs. Lovett's face had turned a bright pink as he had hesitantly patted her neck and dress dry with the cloth. All she had managed to choke out was a small, strangled sound of thanks. When she had finally found her voice she asked, "So what'd you come down for Mr. T?"

"Just . . . checking on you," he had murmured. Instead of rushing back up to his room, he had sat down on the couch next to her. It had taken all of her energy not to squeal with joy. He hadn't talked, he never did, but she enjoyed his company too much to ruin it with chatter.

Mrs. Lovett sighed happily as she remembered this. She felt as if she was in a trance, just floating along on a cloud above the grimy streets. She didn't even feel mildly annoyed when someone grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to stop. A smile was still plastered on her face as she turned around to find herself face to face with Judge Turpin.

"Good day, miss," he stated pleasantly. She had to keep herself from narrowing her eyes. Or striking him on the head and running away.

"And 'ow can I be of service to you, most honorable Judge?" she said through gritted teeth that were hiding behind a now fake smile.

"As you well know, gossip around London travels very quickly, Nellie."

"It's _Mrs. Lovett _to you, sir._" _she corrected.

The Judge waved a hand dismissively. "So as you know I understand about your . . . condition."

Mrs. Lovett's fingers traveled unconsciously to her stomach. "Yes?"

"And I think you may be able to help me. You see, I intend on marrying my ward very soon, but I fear she will not accept me. I think if I give her a _companion _a little closer to her age, she might comply."

Mrs. Lovett stared in horror. "You want my baby?"

The Judge smiled, exposing filthy, crooked teeth. "My, you're the sharp one, aren't you? Of course, I will compensate for your loss. A large sum of money should be enough I think."

"You disgusting man! To think I would give away my baby for your dirty money is absolutely unbelievable! Mark me words, Judge, you will never, EVER, convince me to do such a 'orrid thing."

"I thought you might say that. Which is why I have another alternative, one you might like just as much." He leaned in to her and she could smell his cheap cologne. "If you refuse, I will transport that little bastard child's father all the way to hell. I know you fancy him quite much, and you probably won't want that to happen to him now do you?" he hissed.

Mrs. Lovett gasped. "Y-You can't do that!"

"Oh? And why's that?"

"'Cause I . . ." She didn't know what to do. To lose the child she's never had or the man who she's just beginning to have. "'Cause I'll do it."

**oooooooooooooooo**

"Beadle," the Judge called as he entered his magnificent house. "We must make another trip to the asylum."

Beadle Bamford appeared in front of him, messily eating a cream-filled pastry. "Oh? So the wench agreed to your proposition my lord?"

"Yes, but rather stubbornly. I'm afraid she may try something fishy. We need another way to tie her down completely."

"There's that little boy, sir. The one she took in after that Italian barber left town. I think she holds quite an affection for him." The Beadle smirked proudly, hoping the Judge would commemorate him for the splendid plan.

"Excellent, Beadle. If it seems she is not going to play along with this, we'll take him."


	13. Loophole

**A/N: Woo next chapter. I'm reintroducing the voice in this one so hopefully you guys remember it 'cause I haven't really talked about it since like six chapters ago . . . **

**Well, enjoy! And review! And remember I don't own any of these characters!**

Sweeney was only absolutely sure of two things. One, Lucy was dead. Two, he was a man. Of the latter he was previously not so sure about. He always saw himself as a demon, a hellish figure, the devil's reincarnate. But now he was something completely different, and he owed it all to Nellie Lovett.

Maybe he was growing more attached because of their one romantic rendevous. Maybe he was being reminded of Lucy's own pregnancy. Maybe he was going soft.

Nevertheless, he was pretty sure he was beginning to like these new-found feelings. They were fresh. They were raw. They charged him with an unknown energy. He didn't know what to call them.

_**Love perhaps? **_

That voice again. He was beginning to hear it more often than not now. He snorted to himself. _In love, with Nellie Lovett? How laughable. How ludicrous. How . . ._

_**How very true. **_

_Mind your own business, _Sweeney snapped at the voice.

_**I am minding my own business, Todd, seeing as I live in your head. **_

_Who are you then? _

_**Your conscience. Your subconscious. That little voice in the back of your head that only comes out when you've gone truly mad. Take your pick. **_

_I haven't gone mad . . ._

_**Oh? Do you know any non-mad people who grin with pleasure when they see blood pour out of peoples' throats? Or better yet, who talk to a voice in their head?**_

Sweeney didn't answer back, or think back, which is more suitable to say in this situation. The voice didn't say anything else so he began to pace back in forth in front of the window. That's when he saw Mrs. Lovett half-running towards the shop, an odd look on her face.

_**You should go check on her, she might be upset.**_

Sweeney was about to make a retort as to why he should care if she was upset or not, but decided against it. Instead, he walked out of his shop and downstairs. Mrs. Lovett had already made it into the kitchen.

**ooooooooooooooo**

Mrs. Lovett gripped the counter for support. The tears were flowing freely now and her breaths were coming out as hiccups.

"Mrs. Lovett?"

_Oh, bloody hell, _cursed Mrs. Lovett. Of course he would find her like this. She straightened herself up and tried to wipe away the tears.

"Why, 'ello love," she managed to say without her voice cracking.

"What's happened?"

"Nothing, nothing. I've got something in me eye."

He narrowed his eyes. "Tell me."

If Mrs. Lovett had been at all sensible, she would have told him. She would have spilled her story and make plans for him to sneak into the Judge's house and kill him right there. But she knew if she told him he would do just that. And he would get caught. And get sent away.

She narrowed her eyes back at him. "I just did."

He took two long strides over to her with a look on his face that made her back up.

"I said, tell me." She expected to see his hard, cold eyes staring down at her. But instead she saw that they were on fire, boring deep into her own eyes.

"S-someone said somethin' mean to me," she lied quickly. "I jus' get a bit emotional . . ."

Mr. Todd backed off and nodded. She let out a sigh of relief as he stalked back upstairs.

**oooooooooooooo**

Only a couple of days had passed and the Beadle was already looming in through the window nearly every day. Mrs. Lovett always ignored him, knowing he was just waiting for the day that the baby would come. But didn't they know she was only four months along? Or did they suspect she was going to do something to back out of their deal. As if that were possible . . .

Mr. Todd always ran down the stairs, excited that the Beadle finally showed up. But every time he offered a shave the Beadle shook his head and walked briskly away. She could tell he fought the urge to run after him and saw his head off. He came in every time, threw a random glass at the wall, and yelled.

"Why the hell does he wait around out there for no reason!?"

Mrs. Lovett shrugged each time, and he would retreat back to his room. This had become a routine.

It was really beginning to irk her. What did they expect her to do? Run off? Somehow manage to prevent herself from having the baby?

A lightbulb went off in her head. A loophole. She had found a loophole.


	14. Violence

**A/N: Kind of a violent/depressing chapter. Then again, this whole story is kinda depressing. Where's all the comic relief?! Hahaha...I don't know if I'll have any, but I'll see what I can fit in. Maybe. **

**Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. **

Johanna was sitting on her bed hugging her knees. She buried her face in her arms. She did not want to be back in this awful place. Sure, the atmosphere wasn't as grimy and horrifying as the asylum, but there was something here that made it worse. That made the asylum look like a a candy store compared to it.

Judge Turpin.

He had entered the room, as if on cue, and Johanna stared at him in horror. She let her hands fall from her knees to her ornate bed spread. Her fingers gripped tightly onto the smooth fabric.

"I have excellent news for you, my pet," purred the Judge. Johanna didn't speak, didn't dare. The Judge ignored her silence and continued. "I've procured a future _playmate_ for you. I know you aren't too keen on marrying me, but I'm sure that attitude will change once you have a little baby to take care of."

Johanna didn't move an inch. She didn't gasp, her eyes didn't go as wide as quarters. She simply continued staring. A chaotic swirl of thoughts bashed around in her head, wanting to voice their opinions.

_He's sick! Sick and mad!_

_But a baby, how sweet._

_Who's the mother? Just how did he 'procure' this baby?_

_Oh god, did he rape some poor unsuspecting woman for me? That's terrible! _

_Anthony doesn't know I'm back here. What if I never see him again? I need some sort of company . . ._

Johanna was shocked at herself for thinking this last thought. How could she be so selfish? She didn't want to take a baby away from their mother. But then again, did she have a choice?

The Judge took her silence as a form of acceptance. He smiled his grisly smile and began to leave the room.

A soft "No!" sprang out from Johanna's lips before she had a chance to stop herself. The Judge whirled around and cocked one eyebrow.

"No?" He repeated, his voice cold and hard. "What do you mean by that?"

Johanna's voice was meek and small as she answered. "I don't want a baby. I don't want to marry you." Her voice raised slightly as she said, "And you can't make me." She bit her lip right after she said this. Of course he could make her. He could do anything he wanted.

The Judge was next to her in two long strides. He seized her long hair, still dirty from her days at the asylum, and pulled her off the bed. A moan of pain escaped her lips and she shut her eyes tightly.

"I can't make you, is that what you said you little bitch?" He hissed into her ear. She whimpered pathetically as he threw her roughly against the wall.

"You. Will. Do. As. I. Say," he grunted, punctuating each word with a kick. He turned away from her, breathing angrily. Johanna remained on the ground, too afraid to move. Finally, after a couple of minutes, the Judge turned towards her, his face apologetic.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I don't know what came over me. You just upset me so much sometimes . . . Please try not to anymore. I forgive you this time, though, pet. Of course you can understand?"

Johanna stayed motionless, her mouth opening and closing slightly. _I hate you, _she screamed in her head. _I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU! _The words were begging to be heard, begging to break free. But once again she was too afraid.

The Judge walked slowly to her, knelt down on one knee, and cupped her face in his hands. "I will see you at dinner, my love." Reluctantly, he let go of her and left the room.

Crying, Johanna curled up into a ball. She touched her finger to the side of her mouth. A sob ripped through her chest as she saw the blood trailing down her finger. She began to cough violently, causing more blood to flow from her mouth onto the expensive Persian rug.

She could never win, could she?

**ooooooooooooooooooo**

Mrs. Lovett smiled peacefully as the breeze blew her curls around her face. The sun warmed her cheeks pleasantly. It was going to be a beautiful day. She chuckled at how the lovely contrasted with the dark deed she was about to do. She was standing at the top of the stairs to Mr. Todd's shop. It was seven a.m., so she didn't need to worry about costumers or Mr. Todd – he always slept soundly through nine in the morning. And if anyone saw, she could say she simply tripped . . .

She recalled the stories that women usually gossiped about. About how people they knew accidentally, or deliberately, had had miscarriages. Violent husbands, abusive drinkers, falling down stairs. Et cetera, et cetera.

Mrs. Lovett took a deep breath. She had to do this. She had to lose the baby she's never had to keep the man she's always loved. She needed to. No baby, no blackmail. A small tear fell smoothly across her cheek as she began to fall forward . . .

Strong hands grabbed at her waist before she could topple over. Angrily, she turned to face her savior. Who dared to interfere with her flawless plan? Sweeney Todd met her gaze, though not with as much intensity. He looked incredulous. Scared, even, if that were possible for him. He turned her body all the way around to face him.

"What the hell were you trying to do!?" he roared. "Kill yourself?"

Mrs. Lovett didn't answer. She looked off to the side, suddenly embarrassed. Comprehension flickered across Mr. Todd's face.

"You were trying to kill the baby." It was a statement. Mrs. Lovett willed herself with all her strength not to cry. She fought with her emotions. She kicked and screamed at them.

Her emotions won.

Sweeney's brow furrowed as he watched her cry. "Why?"

Again, she couldn't tell him. He'd do something rash. She came up with a lie.

"Y-you never seem to care 'bout it anyway!" she blubbered. "What's the point? S'not like you'd care for it, or anythin'! So why keep it? I don't want it anyway . . ." Her voice cracked on the last sentence, and she hoped it added to the effect.

Sweeney looked down. "I want it," he said so quietly that she could barely hear him. "I care, I do." He was practically breathing the words. Mrs. Lovett was genuinely shocked. And disappointed. Now what was she supposed to do?

"Oh . . .ok then," she mumbled awkwardly. She walked stiffly down the stairs and into her shop, ignoring the eyes that were probably staring at her back.


	15. Amor Omnia Vincit

**A/N: Just so you know, the second part of this chapter is NOT pointless! It has some importance later on. Some. Anyway, read and review! Reviews make me happy!**

**(BTW you guys should definitely check out my new fan fiction, The Devil's Assassins. It's not Sweenett but it's still good!)**

**None of these characters are mine, yo.**

* * *

Sweeney Todd cursed and retreated into his room. That damned woman was always doing something stupid. He should have just let her fall. Seeing her in pain would have made the day exponentially better . . .

_**You wouldn't have wanted to see her in pain, and you know it.**_

Sweeney cursed again. He tried blocking out the voice that had somehow managed to break through the mental wall he had built between them.

_**You love her. Just admit it.**_

"Like I'd love anyone as daft as her." He immediately clamped his mouth shut, surprised at himself for addressing the voice aloud. It made him sound . . . crazy.

_****__**You yourself said she was practical. And she's quite beautiful, isn't she? What with her slender frame and warm chocolate eyes . . .**_

"Will you shut the hell up!?" Sweeney slapped himself across the face, as if the action would harm the voice itself. For good measure, he rammed his head against the wall.

_****__**Think back to that night. What made you sneak into her room? **_

"Boredom. Insomnia. Need for a distraction."

_****__**Lust.**_

"Lust is not the same as love."

_****__**But lust can turn into love, if you give it time to brew. Besides, I've realized that recently you've been unable to stop yourself from noticing the way her red curls shine in the sunlight. Or the way she practically dances around the shop. And even you have to admit you'd be lost without her. She takes care of you. **_

Sweeney found him unwillingly picturing all the images the Voice threw at him. It was true. He had noticed those things. She put up with him, cared for him. And she was beautiful, so beautiful . . .

And then Sweeney had his second epiphany in four months.

_I love her_. The words seemed to sing inside his head. _I love her_. He wanted to shout the words, to run through the streets of London yelling her name and looking like a complete idiot. _I _love_ Nellie Lovett._

An odd feeling started in the pit of his stomach, working its way to his chest.

_****__**Love. **_

"Love," he agreed. He never thought he'd find himself agreeing with the Voice, but here he was.

_******ooooooooooooooooo**_

Mrs. Lovett was putting off seeing Sweeney, she could not deny this fact. But she knew the man had to eat sometime, and so was obligated to bring up a tray of food for lunch. She knew he would not have a customer because she just saw one go up five minutes ago. Reluctantly, she trudged up the steps and pushed the door open with her back.

"Got some food for you, Mr. T," she mumbled. She looked up at his face and started. His eyes were blazing. Regaining her composure quickly, she set the food on the chest by the wall. She was about to leave when Sweeney grabbed her arm in a vise-like grip.

"Er, somethin' you need to say?" She avoided looking at his eyes again. He didn't answer, but sat her down onto the dangerous machine he called the barber's chair. He grabbed the rocking chair that still sat in the far corner, and sat in front of her.

"So," he began conversationally, "you were trying to kill the baby?" He looked at her with raised eyebrows. It was very unsettling.

"Do we really need to go over this again? I already told you me reasons, and I don' particularly fancy talkin' 'bout it again."

Sweeney looked away and nodded. She made to rise, but his hand forced her back down.

"What else?" she demanded. Again, he didn't answer, but stared at her with the same blazing eyes. They were scorching, and she began to feel very warm under her dress. The silence went on for too long, and Mrs. Lovett's chatty nature automatically began to feel antsy and bored. She tried to find a random subject to talk about.

"So, uh, did you ever 'ave any siblings, Mr. T?" Yes, that was random enough. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"A younger sister," he responded, wary. "Why do you ask?"

"Jus' . . . curious." She played with the folds of her skirt, trying to squeeze every possible word to say about this subject. It didn't seem as if he was going to let her leave soon. "What was 'er name?"

Sweeney hesitated. "Charlotte."

"Charlotte," Mrs. Lovett repeated, letting the syllables move gracefully across her tongue.

"Beautiful name. Were you close?"

He was quick to answer this time. "No. We didn't get along well."

"Shame. I've never had any siblings meself. D'you know where she is now?"

"Last time . . . last time I heard from her was before I was . . . transported. And she was very ill then. I don't know if she . . ." He trailed off.

"Oh, Mr. T, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't 'ave asked."

"Not your fault," he mumbled. He looked away from her, and the warmth immediately began leaving her body. She decided he might actually let her leave, and she sat up.

"Got to get to the customers," she said. He nodded, but not before lightly grabbing her hand and holding it. Her thoughts became frazzled. He touched me. He's holding my hand. She basked in the glory of it.

The feeling ended right as he dropped it to her side.

She hurried out the room, set on not letting Sweeney see her bright red face. She felt lighter, complete, happy, and all because of that single touch.

Her happy demeanor came crashing down once she saw who was standing by the shop's entrance.

Beadle Bamford.


	16. Toby Taken

**A/N: Oh, wow. I think that's the longest I've gone without updating! I'm so sorry! School ended about a week and a half ago so I have more free time, but I'm getting caught up in this original story of mine that I'm working on. **

**Erm, please realize half this chapter was written at 3 in the morning.**

**I don't own any of these characters!**

* * *

Mrs. Lovett stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at the man who was gazing into her shop window, apparently looking for something. There was a black carriage behind him. She swallowed hard and called out to the Beadle, "'Scuse me sir, but can I 'elp you?"

The Beadle turned his lecherous gaze up towards her, and a sickening grin began to spread across his face. Mrs. Lovett hesitantly made her way down the steps, not breaking eye contact.

"Why, yes," he answered. "Yes you can. You see, it appears a certain unnamed woman has tried to back out of her deal, using some idiotic method."

Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened. "How . . . what are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, bitch. You know right well how fast news can travel around here. Now, where's the boy? The Judge and I agreed he'd be our sort of bribe. A reason for you not to try and back out of the arrangement. Again."

"I tripped!"

The Beadle laughed, unconvinced.

"Mum, what's going on?" Mrs. Lovett whirled around to find Toby standing there, wiping his soap-covered hands off on his apron. He must've been washing the dishes.

"Nothing, love. Go back inside," Mrs. Lovett whispered fiercely.

"That won't be necessary," said the Beadle. He grabbed Toby's arm roughly and began pulling him along.

"Mum! What's– "

"No! Stop it! Stop!" Mrs. Lovett screeched, clawing at the Beadle's hand that was holding Toby.

"You."

All three of them whirled around simultaneously to see Sweeney Todd standing a few feet away. His expression was hard, cold, and furious.

"Ah, Mr. – " began the Beadle, but he was cut off.

"Shut up." Sweeney pointed a razor at the Beadle. "Let go of the boy."

"Are you threatening me, sir?"

Sweeney sneered, his lips pulling into a horrific form. Mrs. Lovett stared at him with wide, pleading eyes, but he didn't take notice.

_Oh please, please don't do something stupid that would get us all killed. Please, please, please! _Mrs. Lovett begged inside her head.

"And what if I am?" said Sweeney, his voice mocking.

_Like saying something like that, _she thought, cringing to herself. She quickly left her spot next to the Beadle and Toby, who was now thrashing unavailingly in the Beadle's surprisingly firm grip, and hurried to Sweeney's side. She grabbed the arm that was holding his razor, trying to get him to put it down.

"Not here," she hissed in his ear. "Not now. Don't you see the people watching?"

This seemed to work. Sweeney immediately dropped his arm after realizing the people that were watching from the sidewalks, and from the windows.

"I mean, no sir," he said, his eyes looking downward, his voice a low murmur. "Of course I wouldn't threaten you. If you need to take the boy, take him. He's of no use." He turned on his heel and retreated up the steps.

Toby let out a wail of defiance as the Beadle thrust him into the black carriage. Mrs. Lovett screamed in protest, running after the carriage as it set off, not stopping until the heel of one of her boots got caught on the cobblestone road and she fell over, her outstretched arm still reaching uselessly into the air.

**ooooooooooooooooo**

_**Insensitive fool.**_

_Oh, come off it. What else was I supposed to do?_

Sweeney was sitting in his barbershop, absentmindedly polishing his razors. Suddenly Mrs. Lovett burst in, her eyes red from crying.

"Mr. T! 'Ow could you!" she wailed.

He stood up, surprised, and walked over to her. "I had to do it. How else was I going to cover something like that up? It's a miracle he didn't arrest us right then . . ."

"You coulda done somethin' about Toby! You coulda stopped 'im from takin' 'im! I hate you! I hate you!" She was pounding on his chest now, tears streaming down her face.

"About that . . ." he said, grabbing her wrists and putting them down by her side. "Do you mind explaining why the Beadle came and took him in the first place?"

Mrs. Lovett bit her lip, hesitating.

"Come on, pet. Tell me." His voice was so soft and pleading it took her by surprise. She looked up at him, her cheeks still wet from tears. He was still holding her wrists but he couldn't bring himself to let go. Afer a while, she turned away from him with a look of resignation.

"All right," she sniffed. "I'll tell you. But you 'ave to promise not to go on a rampage."

So Mrs. Lovett proceeded in telling Sweeney all about what happened, all about the blackmail and her miscarriage attempt. His expression deepened in disgust with every word she said.

"I'm going to kill him."

"Well y'see, that's precisely why I couldn't tell you."

"Mrs. Lovett, what other choice do we have?"

"Look," she said, ushering him towards the window. "You can't jus' go after 'im like tha'. It's inevitable that you'll get caught, and we'll 'ave to run away and it'll be a whole mess of things. Don't you see?"

Sweeney's brow furrowed. "He'll never come back for a shave now. How else will I get to him?"

"I don't know, love, but we'll think of something."

"Bloody right we will." He frowned and looked down at her.

"What?"

"Will you be able to run the shop? Without the boy?"

"Oh, right. I really don't know . . . I mean, I can keep the customers jus' fine. I don't think I can handle making the pies as well, though. But we're goin' to get Toby back, aren't we?"

"Okay, then. I'll make the pies. You'll have to show me again, though."

"Mr. Todd," Mrs. Lovett said slowly, "you are going to try and get the boy back, aren't you?"

Sweeney paused. "One thing at a time, pet."

Mrs. Lovett moaned loudly, dropping her head into her hands. After a while she raised her head and asked, "'Ow the bloody 'ell are you going to supply the meat _and_ cook it?"

"Don't worry about that. I'll figure something out."

Mrs. Lovett sniffed again. Sweeney walked over to her, put a hesitant arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close to his chest. They stayed like that for a long, long time, as the sun set and the moon rose high into the sky.


	17. Now, Here's the Plan

**A/N: Woah, long time no update, eh? Sorry about that. By the way, anyone on here Twilight fans? 'Cause I've been reading Breaking Dawn and I'm about halfway through and I am LOVING IT! So that's what I'm going to do after posting this. Hahaha.**

**Anyway, here's the next installment!**

* * *

Johanna was sitting by her window, gazing forlornly at the people walking about the streets. How jealous they made her feel, how _envious. _ She brooded over the fact of her confinement as she gingerly touched her tender bruises, examining how much damage had been done this time. The bruises weren't too bad. At least, not as bad as they sometimes were.

Something outside of her window made Johanna jump from her perch on the ornate chair she was sitting on. A carriage had just pulled up and the Beadle was coming out now, dragging a little boy by the arm.

_Is this what the Judge meant when he said baby? _Thought Johanna curiously._ That boy is hardly a baby. He looks practically twelve. _

A strange feeling began to course through Johanna's stomach, one that reminded her of fear. Was she afraid of this boy? Would he attack her for bringing this punishment upon him? She shivered slightly, and the bruises on her arms seemed to radiate with pain even more.

The boy was inside now, and she heard his frantic yells, his stream of obscenities that he threw at them. She heard the Judge yell back, telling him it was his beloved Mrs. Lovett that did this to him, and the boy shouted even louder. Mrs. Lovett? Didn't that sound familiar?

A memory of Anthony sprang into her mind. Him, conspiratorially whispering up to her window that it would all be okay. '_I'll bring you around to Mrs. Lovett's and Mr. Todd's shop. They'll help.' _The memory triggered painful feelings. She knew escaping this place was too fantastical, to surreal, but she allowed herself to hope anyway.

Well, that's what you get when you let your dreams get a little out of hand.

Johanna heard the boy shout one final curse before she heard the Judge slam a door shut. _The basement, _she thought immediately. _He's locked him in the basement. _

Suddenly, Johanna hatched a brilliant plan.

**oooooooooooooooo**

Anthony Hope was wandering the streets of London, like he so often did, singing a melody softly to himself. He hoped that somehow Johanna could magically be able to hear him, and maybe his singing would comfort her. He knew it was just his silly imagination, but it made him feel better when he thought of Johanna, being comforted to sleep by his voice.

Anthony stopped in front of Fogg's Asylum, staring up at the window where Johanna usually peeked out of. Except, for the past few days, Johanna hadn't peeked out of the window. He had been coming by every night, hoping she would make her appearance again.

Anthony Hope was beginning to lose hope.

Crestfallen, Anthony looked at the sky. The sun was just beginning to set, which meant Mr. Todd's shop was still open. He decided to make his way towards Fleet Street, just to ask for advice on what to do.

When he reached 186 Fleet Street the sun was completely down. The sky was completely black. He walked swiftly up the stairs and barged into the quaint barbershop.

"Mr. Todd!" He cried, then stopped dead in his tracks.

Mr. Todd was there. With a woman. And they were embracing.

"Uh, oh, I'm sorry! Terribly sorry! I should've knocked. I have a horrible habit of forgetting to do so," Anthony spluttered almost incoherently. He expected Mr. Todd to give him that hard, cold stare and tell him to get out, but instead something strange happened. Mr. Todd moved slowly from his position with Mrs. Lovett to face Anthony. His face was strangely serene. Anthony never thought he'd seen something more disturbing.

"It's all right, Anthony. What's the matter?" Mr. Todd asked compassionately. _Compassionately! _Anthony didn't know how to make sense of it. He was at a loss for words.

"Love?" Mrs. Lovett finally called after a couple moments went by. "Y'mind tellin' us why you're 'ere?"

"Er, right. Well, usually every night I go by the window at Fogg's asylum and see Johanna there, but lately she hasn't been there at all. I don't know if something's happened to her, or whether she doesn't care about me anymore . . ." Anthony trailed off as his throat got a bit too thick for talking. He saw Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd exchange baffled expressions.

"'E couldn't have–"

"He wouldn't– "

"That bloody old Judge!"

"Already? Sodding hell!"

Anthony decided to interrupt their outbursts. "I'm sorry but could you explain to me what you're talking about? What 'wouldn't he' have done?"

Mr. Todd hesitated for a moment. "We . . . have reason to believe that Johanna is back at Judge Turpin's house."

Anthony's eyes went wide with excitement. "She's okay? She's okay!"

"Yes," said Mrs. Lovett slowly. "But that means that she's _back at Judge Turpin's house._"

"Oh," mumbled Anthony, his excitement smothered. "That is a dilemma. But why is she back there?"

The two business partners exchanged another look, except this one was more guarded, hesitant.

"We . . . don't know," said Mr. Todd finally.

"Then how do you know she's back there?" asked Anthony suspiciously.

"We just do, that's why. It's not important at the moment. The important thing is for you to get her out of there."

"But how?"

"Workin' on tha', love," said Mrs. Lovett impatiently. Anthony narrowed his eyes. There was something here they were not telling him. Finally, he noticed it.

"Mrs. Lovett, when did you get so big!?"

"It's called a baby," sniffed Mrs. Lovett, a bit hurt by Anthony's remark.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. But does that mean . . ." His gaze shifted from Mrs. Lovett to Mr. Todd, then back to Mrs. Lovett. A smile crept onto his face as he looked back to Mr. Todd, who was giving him the deadliest look he'd ever seen. His smile immediately disappeared.

"We're not discussing it," snapped Mr. Todd.

"Right," agreed Anthony wholeheartedly. He didn't want to get onto Mr. Todd's bad side again.

"Now," said Mr. Todd, "I think I have a plan . . ."

**oooooooooooooooo**

Johanna knew how to pick a lock, of course she did. It was a skill she knew would come in handy someday. Someday, when she figured out a way to escape this blasted house. And that day was today.

She deftly unlocked the door to her room and silently opened it, making sure it didn't creak. Once she was out she tiptoed down the stairs. She stumbled blindly through the dark for a while, but eventually made her way to the door that led to the basement. She picked the lock on that door as well and, very quietly, opened it. Nervously, she felt for the first step with her right foot. She found it, the old wood feeling very unstable beneath her foot, and began descending down the rest of the way.

Once she reached the bottom she heard a small shuffling sound. The sound echoed, so she couldn't tell where it came from.

"Little boy?" she called out timidly. "Are you down here? Hello?" She began to walk forward into the blackness.

"Who are you?" said a voice after quite some time. Johanna heard footsteps coming toward her. She squinted as her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she began to see the outline of a young boy.

"Did . . . did Judge Turpin bring you here?"

"No, I just decided to have a little stroll in this basement," sniped the boy sarcastically.

Johanna was quiet for a while, then said, "I'm Johanna. What's your name?"

"Toby," answered the boy. Johanna could see that he was glaring at her.

"Well, Toby, I think that you'll be able to help me with something. Will you help me?"

Toby eyed her cautiously. "With what?"

"I want to escape this house. I've been locked up here for the past fifteen years. I think that with you're help we might be able to escape undetected."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

Johanna shrugged. "You can't. But what have you got to lose? Please, Toby, I'm begging you. I can't stay another day in this fortress."

Toby deliberated for a moment, then nodded. Johanna clasped her hands together happily.

"Oh, thank you, Toby! Thank you!" she cried ecstatically. "Now, here's what I was thinking . . ."


	18. Reunited

**A/N: Mmm, reviews! Wonderful reviews! Thank you!! Wow, a lot of people are Twilight fans, huh? Haha, that's nothing new. Anyway, if you're interested I'm writing a Twillight fanfic called **_**The Natural Path **_**about how Jacob and Bella's life would have been if there were no magic or mythical creatures. **

**Advertising your own fanfictions FTW! **

**None of these characters belong to me, but you should enjoy this anyway. **

Toby waited at the bottom of the sewer, his ready arms held out just in case Johanna fell. He was being careful not to look up her dress as she was suspended between the basement and the sewer, but she was taking such a damn long time to come down.

"Johanna? What are you waiting for?" he asked impatiently. He wanted to get out of here. Now.

"I . . . I'm scared. What if he comes after me? He'll kill me." Her voice wavered.

"Well if he finds you right here, he'll definitely kill you. Now come _on._" He heard her take a deep breath and then finally let herself drop. Toby caught her, but she was so much taller than him that it caused him to topple over with a loud 'oof!'.

"Sorry," Johanna mumbled. She pulled herself up and extended a hand toward Toby, who grabbed it willingly. Then they sprinted down the sewers.

**oooooooooooooo**

"Now," said Sweeney Todd, looking intently at Mrs. Lovett and Anthony, "what's the one thing that ties all the houses in London together?"

"The sewers," said Mrs. Lovett happily.

"Exactly. The sewers. So we just need to get Anthony to follow the sewers to the Judge's house."

Anthony gaped, pointing at himself. "M-me?"

"Yes you, you imbecile. What are you so afraid of? You're a sailor, aren't you?"

"Y-yes but, well, I don't know how to maneuver in sewers . . ." Anthony mumbled.

"Good Lord," cried Mrs. Lovett. "What kind of a man are you? It's the same bloody layout as if you were walking above ground."

Anthony blushed. "Er, right. Of course. I've got it. Definitely. I _definitely_ know what to do."

"For Johanna's sake, let's hope you do," murmured Mrs. Lovett. She looked down at her toes and then said quietly, "D'you think you could get Toby as well, while you're there? You'll know 'im when you see 'im. 'E's just a small boy, brown 'air . . ." She began sniffling.

"Of course, ma'am," assured Anthony. "I will."

"Alright, enough stalling," said Sweeney gruffly. "Let's get you in the sewers."

**ooooooooooooooo**

They were halfway to Mrs. Lovett's basement when Johanna stopped to start wheezing.

"What are you doing?" shouted Toby. He could practically smell meat pies.

"I -gasp- I'm not -gasp- very in shape -gasp-."

Toby moaned loudly. "Fine, take a little break. But we have to start moving again soon! Who knows if the Judge is following or not."

Apparently Johanna hadn't realized that possibility. Her eyes went wide as she grabbed Toby's arm and began sprinting again.

"Wait!" Toby hissed. She stopped dead, confused. "I hear footsteps."

Johanna strained her ears and listened attentively. Yes, there were footsteps. It sounded like the owner of the sound was moving very quickly, and approaching just as fast. "The Judge?" she squeaked.

"No," said Toby. "It's coming from ahead." They stood still for what seemed like eternity while the footsteps drew nearer and nearer. Toby thought his heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second. Finally, someone's face came into view.

"Johanna?" called a voice. "Toby? Is that you?"

Johanna let out a cry of joy and ran forward before Toby could stop her. What the hell was she doing?

"Anthony!" she cried, embracing the stranger. He embraced her as well as they exchanged kisses. Toby made a gagging noise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice still full of joy.

"Rescuing you! What are _you_ doing?"

"Escaping!" she laughed.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too!"

"Oh, Johanna!"

"Oh, for the love of all that is holy," interrupted Toby. "Can we get moving?"

"Ah, yes! We should hurry!" agreed Anthony, and the three ran towards Mrs. Lovett's meat pie shop.

**ooooooooooooooooo**

"D'you really think he's able to do this, Sweeney?" asked Mrs. Lovett. She wore an expression of concern as she stared at the sewer hole Anthony had just disappeared into about half an hour ago. "The lad doesn't seem all that bright."

"He's able," said Sweeney, but he didn't seem so sure either. Suddenly, they heard a knocking coming from upstairs. Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney exchanged cautious glances. Sweeney took his razor from his holster and slowly made his way up from the basement, Mrs. Lovett following.

"Mr. Todd," said a cold voice once he ascended the stairs. Sweeney's back went rigid. _The Judge._

"Evening, sir," he answered, not lowering his razor. "What brings you here at his late hour?"

The Judge snapped his fingers and simultaneously a group of constables emerged from behind him. Sweeney acted like lightning. One minute there were at least eight constables, and the next over half of them were on the ground, dead, blood spewing from their necks. The others were frozen solid, too scared to know what to do next. The Judge, however, was wearing the same stable expression.

"Seize them," he said. The two constables left didn't move. Sweeney was regarding them with a murderous expression. Mrs. Lovett was standing in the back, hand protectively over her belly.

"Sweeney . . ." she squeaked. She'd never see him actually _kill_ someone before. She just dealt with the mess afterwards.

Sweeney didn't respond, only lunged at the Judge.


	19. Imprisoned

**A/N: Goodness, has it really been that long? My apologies, but I've been really busy with school and stuff. Yay winter break! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! **

Sweeney flicked a pebble across the floor, straining his ears to hear the soft _ding_ that followed as it hit the prison bars. He was lying on his back on the grimy floor, his head turned opposite of the woman sitting on the tiny cot behind him. It took all of his self-control to stay where he was, and not get up and start raving like a lunatic. He knew the Judge was watching, somehow, from somewhere. Behind him, he heard an intake of breath.

"Well, we're in quite a fix now, aren't we?"

"Shut up, Mrs. Lovett," growled Sweeney. He was in no mood for her chatter.

"Bein' a moody bugger won't help anything, y'know."

Sweeney stood up from the dank and dirty floor, and faced Mrs. Lovett.

"Oh?" he said, taking a step toward her. "And what, pray tell, _will_ help?"

"I don't know," responded Mrs. Lovett. She sat up a bit straighter in her chair and jutted her chin out. The gesture, which was meant to be a sign of bravery, went unnoticed by Sweeney, as he took another step toward her. His face glowered even more menacingly.

"Ah, ah, ah," chided a voice from behind them. "Mustn't hurt the baby."

Sweeney whirled around as Mrs. Lovett stood abruptly up, both of them staring at the face of the Judge, who was standing on the other side of the bars.

"You – "

"I wouldn't take another step if I were you, Mr. Barker." Sweeney stopped dead in his tracks. "Yes, that's right. I know of your little deception. You see . . ." The Judge paused to take a small, square piece of paper out of his pocket. It was a photograph. "I just so happened to come upon this photograph, taken a long time ago. It seems it might've fallen out of that street boy's pocket. The one you seem to admire so." He nodded at Mrs. Lovett, who let out a little gasp. "The man in this photograph looks an awful lot like you, doesn't it, Mr. Barker?" He held up the photograph to Sweeney, just out of his reach. "And how convenient! It has your name written right on the back!"

Sweeney seemed to enraged for words. He managed to force out, "Why?"

"Why what, Mr. Barker?" He seemed to be repeating his name for the fun of it. "Why did I bring you here? Well, besides the fact that you are an ex-convict who escaped from your prison, you also threatened Beadle Bamford, and killed six of my constables. Which is a serious crime, as you should well know. Or perhaps you're asking why I sent you away in the first place? But I'm sure you know that as well – "

"No!" barked Sweeney. "Why did you bring her here, too?" He gestured to Mrs. Lovett, who seemed quite unable of words.

"Her? Why do you care? Ah, well. Technically, she is an unwed mother-to-be, and that is strictly against custom. Also, she attempted to kill her unborn child, which is in fact attempted murder. Both of your hearings will be tomorrow, and I can assure you that you will both probably be hung. Good night." And with a greasy smile, he was gone again.

"Well," breathed Mrs. Lovett from behind him, "it's a wonder he doesn't know about the pies."

**ooooooooooooooooo**

Toby grinned with pleasure as he crawled out of the sewer and into Mrs. Lovett's basement. It was strange, but the combined scent of meat pies and the horrid atmosphere of the basement made him feel just a little bit more at home. He'd never been in the basement before, but it was much like the rest of Mrs. Lovett's house, without the furniture. Anthony followed close behind him after he helped Johanna resurface from the underground.

"C'mon," said Toby, barely able to contain his excitement. "Let's go on up!" He wasn't surprised that the basement door was left open; they were probably waiting for them to return. He expected them to be just on the other side of the door, but they were nowhere in sight.

"So, are Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd nice people?" Toby heard Johanna whisper to Anthony behind him.

"Er, well, it depends on your definition of 'nice'." He chuckled.

Toby continued up the stairs, expecting to see Mrs. Lovett's smiling face to pop out of nowhere. But it never happened.

"Anthony," he whispered over his shoulder. "I don't think they're 'ere."

"What are you talking about?" laughed Anthony. "I just left them twenty minutes ago!" His laughter was cut short by the scene that sat in front of them, just outside the front of the shop. A great mass of white flesh, illuminated by the moon, was surrounded by pools and pools of blood. Toby followed the dark trail the blood made, all the way to his shoes. He picked his foot up, disgusted.

"What . . . what happened here?!" cried Johanna. Anthony tried to shield her from the horrible scene with his coat, but her eyes, big and brown, peeked over his coat in morbid fascination.

Suddenly, everything made sense to Toby. He gasped audibly as realization struck him full-on.

"What is it, Toby?" asked Anthony.

"I can't believe I've let it go on for so long . . ." he muttered to himself. "I could've stopped this!"

"Stopped what, Toby?"

"Mr. Todd! 'E's a murderer! It's no doubt 'e's done this. They probably found 'im out, and came to take 'im, but 'e killed 'em! And 'e's taken Mrs. Lovett with 'im!"

"A murderer? Mr. Todd? But that just can't be! And I saw him embracing Mrs. Lovett just today! He wouldn't do harm to her."

"And what does that prove?" challenged Toby. "Any man can embrace a woman and not mean anythin' by it!"

"He hasn't taken her . . ." whispered Johanna from behind them. They turned and looked at her. She was holding a piece of paper in her hands. "Word does travel fast in London. Look at this."

She handed the paper to Anthony, who read it out loud. "Famous barber Sweeney Todd unmasked. True name Benjamin Barker. An ex-convict and a killer. Innocent??? Famous meat pie extraordinaire Mrs. Lovett an unwed mother-to-be, and attempted murderess. Both trials to be heard tomorrow. Punishment is death." Anthony looked up. There seemed to be thousands of these posters hanging on the buildings around them. Toby looked like he was about to be sick.

"I am going to _kill_ that man," he muttered through clenched teeth.


	20. Chaos In The Courthouse

**A/N: Just as a clear up, Toby says the last line, not Anthony. I guess that was pretty unclear. Oh well, this is a pretty fast update. I'm proud of myself, haha. **

**Comments are appreciated. :) **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Anthony stared at Toby, wide-eyed. He could not believe what had just come out of the little boy's mouth.

"What are you talking about, Toby?" he demanded.

"I'm talking about that 'orrible, 'orrible man _finally_ getting what 'e deserves! 'E's been killing people in 'is shop for months, and nobody's ever realized it!" Toby fumed.

"Well, he's going to be hung tomorrow . . ." said Johanna. "That is, unless he's somehow proven innocent."

"Proven innocent?" repeated Toby incredulously. "Why would anyone want to prove 'im innocent? The only person that needs to be proven innocent is Mrs. Lovett! She 'asn't done a thing."

Anthony looked down at the ground. "He was going to help us escape."

"So? You can escape now. Nothing's stopping you."

"That's true . . ." Anthony looked at Johanna, then back at Toby. "But first we'll help you save Mrs. Lovett."

"Thanks," said Toby appreciatively. Then he realized something. "Wait, they wouldn't hang Mrs. Lovett now, would they? When she's got a baby and all that?"

"They shouldn't," said Johanna. "They'll probably wait until the baby is born." Then she whispered to herself, "But who knows what the Judge is capable of . . ."

"It's going to be hard proving her innocent. All she's being charged for is being unwed, and 'attempted murder'. We don't even know what she 'attempted' to do," said Anthony.

"Hmm. That is goin' to be a bit 'ard . . ." Toby pondered for a bit, then hatched what he thought was an incredible idea. "I've got it! All I 'ave to do is blame everything on Mr. Todd."

"Right. That's a great plan, Toby. There's just a couple of problems. . . I don't think the Judge will buy just that. Plus, isn't he under the current assumption that you're living in his basement?"

"Oh, yeah. You'll 'ave to do it then!"

"M-me?" Anthony stammered.

"Yes, you. Johanna can't do it because the Judge thinks _she's_ at 'is 'ome too."

"But, I couldn't . . . What would I say?"

"Just say that it's all Mr. Todd's fault, and that Mrs. Lovett 'ad nothing to do with anything, and that she tried to get married but Mr. Todd forced 'er not to, and Mrs. Lovett was so upset that she didn't want to bring a baby into a world where Mr. Todd lived."

Anthony pondered over Toby's naive plan. It all seemed like a book that had an endless amount of plot holes. The Judge hated him, and he doubted he would believe him. He had no hope that it would work, but nevertheless, he agreed. Anthony knew he was a sucker, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to help this boy, and even Mrs. Lovett, though he barely knew her. And he was still in shock that Mr. Todd killed those constables, and possibly countless amounts of other people. He shook his head wearily, trying to dispel some of the shock.

They went into the shop for a night's sleep, or an attempt at one. It seemed that no one could get one wink of sleep. Toby was curled up on the couch in the living room, while Anthony and Johanna lay on the floor. Neither of them wanted to intrude upon Mrs. Lovett's bedroom.

Johanna cuddled up close to Anthony, their faces almost touching. She whispered, "The Judge won't change his mind. Once he's set, he's set."

"I know," said Anthony.

"And you're still going to go into court tomorrow?"

"Yes. I have to. I promised Toby." He glanced up at the little boy on the couch, hoping he was already asleep.

"Well, good luck." Johanna gave Anthony a peck on the cheek, then quickly pulled away. They both blushed bright crimson.

"Thank – ahem – Thank you, Johanna." He was trying to cover up a smile.

**oooooooooooooo**

The sun was shining brightly through the windows the next morning, but it seemed as if neither Sweeney Todd nor Nellie Lovett were touched by its rays. They sat in the shadows, obscured by the audience that was beginning to file in. Everyone loved Mrs. Lovett's meat pies, but they would love her hanging even more.

Mrs. Lovett and Sweeny had their parts memorized perfectly. Each knew what the other was going to say, and what they would have to say in response. It wasn't the best plan, but it was the best they could come up with. Mrs. Lovett would say it was all her plan, everything. Whatever the Judge accused of them, she would say it was her doing. Bringing him back from Australia, telling him to kill anyone who seemed to be suspicious of them, anything. She was a temptress, a seductress, and a murderess. Mr. Todd could not go against her. Anything to make the Judge spare Sweeney, and kill her. They knew they wouldn't hang her now, not while she was carrying a baby. They would just put her back in jail for safekeeping. That would buy them some time to formulate an escape plan. If the Judge would not buy into her being the mastermind of their whole operation, she would bribe him. She did not know with what yet, but she'd think of it when that time came.

The trial had just begun. Judge Turpin was reading off all the things they had done, smiling cruelly whenever the crowd roared with anger. This was more of a show to him than a trial. He was just about to speak again when someone in the back stood up.

"Hold on a minute!" cried a familiar voice. Mrs. Lovett cringed as she realized who it belonged to. "Hold on a minute!" cried Anthony again. "Only one of them deserves to die!"

"Oh, bugger," Mrs. Lovett whispered to herself. The sailor was about to ruin everything.

"That idiot!" grunted Sweeney next to her. Every hope seemed to crash down.

"You," sneered the Judge. "You're the one who wanted to steal my Johanna, aren't you?"

"Yes, er, I mean, no, I mean . . . Mr. Todd made me do it!"

The audience was a-twitter with excitement. What an interesting twist!

"Oh? Did he now?" said the Judge mockingly. "What? Did he send his spirit out to control you?" The audience laughed.

"No . . . he said that if I didn't try and help Johanna escape, he would kill me! He wouldn't explain why or anything. I was terrified, sir."

Mrs. Lovett had to restrain Sweeney from jumping out of his seat. "It won't 'elp our case," she muttered in his ear.

"Our case is already demolished, thanks to that blubbering fool," he snapped back.

"Not necessarily," she said back. Then, much to Sweeney's surprise, she stood up from the bench. "I did it!" she boomed. "It was all my doing!"

Everyone in the court room, including an incredulous Anthony and the eyebrow-raising Judge, turned to look at her.

"Explain yourself, please," said the Judge, he mouth curling up into a sneer.

"Mrs. Lovett, no!" cried Anthony. Mrs. Lovett ignored him.

"It was my plan from the beginning. I created arrangements to bring 'im back from Australia, because . . . because I loved 'im, and since 'is wife was dead . . ." Mrs. Lovett gulped. She only wished this were true. ". . . I thought maybe 'e would love me too. Apparently, my plan worked." She gestured to her growing belly. "But there was a slight drawback. I knew some people might recognize 'im from the old days, so I gave 'im a new name and told 'im to kill anyone who seemed suspicious. And well, since the mess all the dead people made was 'ard to clean up –" Mrs. Lovett stopped mid-sentence. She hadn't planned on telling about the pies. She'd messed up.

"Go on," encouraged the Judge, but Mrs. Lovett shook her head.

"That's it," she said quickly. "It was all my doing."

"I see. But that still leaves some questions unanswered. Why, for example, are you not married to Mr. Todd?"

"Because . . . because . . ." Suddenly, Mrs. Lovett got a wonderful idea. "Because there was no use! I knew you were going to take my baby away anyway, because you blackmailed me! Yes, the honorable Judge Turpin _blackmailed_ a woman! 'E said if I didn't give 'im my baby, 'e'd send me all the way to Australia!" The audience gasped, then turned their ravenous expressions to the Judge. It was just the reaction Mrs. Lovett had been going for. "You can see why I'd go crazy like I did! I was going to lose my poor, poor baby! I know I did wrong, I do, and I'll pay for my sins!" The audience cheered enthusiastically. Sweeney watched, impressed, from the bench. Mrs. Lovett really knew how to play the crowd. "But save my innocent lover, I beg of you!" Then she did what any good actress would do, and fainted to the floor.

"Those are outrageous lies!" yelled the Judge. "They both deserve to hang!"

"Who are you to say who deserves to hang and who doesn't?!" shouted someone from the back of the courthouse.

"Yeah! You're just a dirty liar!" joined in someone else, and suddenly the whole courthouse was in chaos. People were screaming, and even a couple had decided to upturn a bench. Sweeney seized this moment to scoop Mrs. Lovett from off the floor and bolt out of the courthouse, with Anthony not too far behind on his heels.


	21. Escape!

**Next chapter! I thought this was going to be the second to last, but I think I'm going to make it much longer, somehow. We'll see. :) Thank you to all those who reviewed, and please review again! **

**I do not own any of the these characters, except for the one brewing in Mrs. Lovett's belly. **

Once they had made it far from the courthouse, Sweeney put a now awake Mrs. Lovett back on her feet and whirled around to face Anthony. The sailor skidded to a stop, almost slamming into the barber's chest. Sweeney grabbed Anthony's shirt collar and pulled him up eye level.

"What did you mean to do in there?" he growled fiercely. Anthony thought he was going to strangle him.

"I-I . . . it was all a very well laid out plan, you see. Ah . . . - urk - " Anthony could no longer speak, due to Sweeney's grip.

"You. Nearly. Got. Us. Killed." he said, punctuating each word with a pull of the boy's shirt.

"Stop it!" cried Mrs. Lovett. "You're choking 'im, can't you see?"

Sweeney looked at Anthony, who was turning a slight bluish color. He loosened his grip lightly, but still held most of his collar, enough so that Anthony would still feel threatened.

"Um . . . Toby is under the current assumption that you are . . . well, you see . . . a murderer?" Anthony cringed, fearing the wrath that would soon come from Sweeney.

Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett exchanged glances. "Well, o' course that's jus' preposterous," said Mrs. Lovett, matter-of-factly.

"Of course, of course. That's what I tried to tell him," said Anthony, nervously twisting his sleeves. Sweeney finally let go of his collar, and Anthony let out a big breath of relief. "So why did they say all those things about you, then?"

Sweeney was about to say something, but Mrs. Lovett interrupted him. "It's all a very tragic story, love. Y'see, in short, the Judge loved Sweeney's wife, so 'e shipped 'im off to Australia. You know about that part, I'm sure." Anthony nodded earnestly. "Well, Sweeney came back, and the Judge found out, and needed a reason to kick 'im out again, y'see? So he went and fixed up the story that 'e's a murderer and whatnot."

"I see . . ." said Anthony, looking very sagacious. "It all makes sense. But why, then, were you thrown into the mix?"

"Er . . ." said Mrs. Lovett. She looked at Sweeney, who didn't say anything, and then looked ahead in front of her, bringing her hand to her face as if to shield her eyes. "Goodness! Is that Toby I see?" Both Anthony and Sweeney squinted in that direction, but saw nothing. Nonetheless, Mrs. Lovett ran forward, albeit quite wobbly thanks to the extra weight she was carrying.

At last, they made it to Mrs. Lovett's shop. Toby and Johanna had been sitting by the window, and were now out and standing very awkwardly in front of the door.

"What's _he_ still doing here?" spat Toby at Sweeney.

"Things didn't exactly go according to plan," whispered Anthony in Toby's ear. Neither Mrs. Lovett nor Sweeney heard him.

"Yeah, obviously not." He turned to Mrs. Lovett, who smiled at him.

"Toby, darling," she cooed, and he could not help but fall for her motherly charm. He smiled back at her, but only for a moment. Then his expression turned black.

"E's dangerous, mum," he said, nodding at Sweeney. "'E's killed people, and I can prove it!"

"Can you, now?" asked Sweeney, calling the boy's bluff. Toby, however, did not back down.

"Yeah, I can. And there's nothin' stoppin' me from goin' back to the Judge and tellin' 'im where you are!"

"Go ahead," snapped Sweeney. "We're leaving." He grabbed Mrs. Lovett's arm and started pulling her away. Mrs. Lovett stared wide-eyed at Toby.

"We can't jus' leave!" she cried.

"Yes, we can. It's only a matter of time before all of London is after us. You stalled them for a bit, but it's not going to last forever." He started pulling her towards the basement of the shop. "We'll have to go by sewer."

"No!" yelled Mrs. Lovett, pushing Sweeney off of her. He stepped back, surprised. "I can't leave Toby." She looked softly at the boy, whose heart practically broke at the sight of such love and care. Finally, Toby realized that the one person who cared about him was going to be taken away. He seemed as if he wanted to cry out, to shout and pummel Sweeney, but found himself speechless.

"Mum . . ." he murmured, reaching one small hand out to her.

"Oh, Toby," sniffled Mrs. Lovett. She turned and faced Sweeney and hissed in his ear, "You're not jus' going to leave your daughter here, are yeh'?"

Sweeney stopped dead in his tracks. He could not believe how completely obtuse he had been. Johanna was there, right in front of him. _Johanna. _The name practically danced in his mind. His gaze fell on her, with her white blonde hair and blue eyes. She looked like a younger version of Lucy. Sweeney felt an uncomfortable tug of his heart, as if it were giving a warning that it was about to break. His eyes softened as he took in her form, which was trembling with fright. Seeing this, Sweeney backed away, and averted his eyes. This girl was _afraid_ of him, actually _afraid_ of him. He whispered back to Mrs. Lovett, "Let's go."

She looked at him, confusion coloring her features. "What d'you mean, 'let's go'?"

"I mean," he grunted, grabbing her wrist and tugging her once roughly, "let's _go!_" He turned to Toby, Anthony, and Johanna, and spoke low and quick. "Don't follow us. Don't tell anyone you've seen us. Or you'll wish you were _never_ born." He grabbed unconsciously at his side, intending to grab his razor to add to the threat, but only grabbed at empty air. "Shit," he muttered. His razors were still upstairs. Did he have time to go and get them? The sun was still up, he couldn't chance being out in broad daylight for too long. But he couldn't chance being without his razors, either. Finally, he realized that he would in fact be lost without his razors, which have always been there in his time of need, and decided to dash quickly up the stairs and retrieve them.

"I'll be right back," he muttered to Mrs. Lovett, then turned the corner and hurried up the stairs into his barber shop, without a second glance back to the children who seemed to be shaking in their shoes. He wrenched open the door and walked swiftly to where he normally kept his box of razors. There was just one problem – it were not there. Panicking, he whirled around, uprooting everything he had to find the box he held so dear. Where the bloody hell _was it?_

"Looking for something, Mr. Todd? Ah, I mean, Mr. Barker?"

Sweeney whipped around, finding himself face to face with the rat-like Beadle Bamford, who was standing in the doorway. He curled his lip up in disgust. "You," he snarled. Of course. He should have realized his absence in the courtroom, should have realized he was up to something even more mischievous.

"Yes, me," answered the Beadle. He tauntingly held up the box Sweeney had been searching for, waving it from side to side. He raised his eyebrows and smiled wickedly. Sweeney lunged, grabbing Beadle Bamford by the neck. The Beadle's eyes grew round as quarters as he gurgled and gasped for breath. The precious box fell from his hands and onto the wooden floor, opening up and causing all the razors to clatter about. Both Sweeney's and Beadle Bamford's eyes immediately darted to the floor, then back at each other. Quick as lightning, Sweeney released the roundish man and stooped the floor to grab one of the razors, then immediately stabbed the Beadle in the leg. He shrieked in pain and fell to the ground, clutching his leg. Sweeney stabbed him continually on the same leg before moving to his rotund belly, angrily and wildly ripping the man apart. He slashed and stabbed until he was practically drenched in the Beadle's blood, then lay back on his hands, breathing heavily. Smiling in satisfaction at the unrecognizable bloody mess in front of him, he got up, wiped some blood off his face, and walked calmly down the stairs, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs and rounded the shop's corner, he was met with the shocked faces of Mrs. Lovett, Toby, Anthony, and Johanna. He knew he must have been a sight, covered in blood and somewhat wild in the eyes, but he did not break his stride as he walked straight over to Mrs. Lovett and grabbed her arm.

"What '_appened_ up there?" she cried weakly. What 'appened to _you_?!"

"Let us just say that we won't be bothered by Beadle Bamford anymore," he said coolly. "Now, will you _stop_ being unreasonable and come with me before the whole city of London comes to hang us?"

Mrs. Lovett puckered her lips, then finally nodded. Toby looked outraged. "You're goin' to go with '_im?_ Look at 'im! 'E jus' killed a person, and you're going to go with him?" he shouted.

"I'm sorry, love," said Mrs. Lovett. "We can't stay 'ere anymore." She looked at Sweeney and then back at Toby. "I'll come back, I promise."

Then, without another second's delay, Sweeney tugged Mrs. Lovett's arm and they both ran into the basement of the bake house, heading for the sewers. He wasn't sure, but Sweeney was pretty sure he heard the small boy whisper "Promises, promises" doubtfully behind him.


	22. Journey to Wales

**A/N: Snow day!!! I love snow!!! I'm in such a good mood that I decided to continue my story. A bit of romance in this one ;)**

**Please read and review!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the town of Holly Branch. And if that is actually a real town, I apologize. **

Run. Huff. Gasp. Pant. Pause. Repeat.

This was the routine Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett took to for what seemed like eternity. They looked behind them to see how far they had come, but there was no way to tell. The sewer looked the same no matter which way you looked. At their next pause, Mrs. Lovett touched her belly cautiously, concerned for her baby.

"It's fine, Mrs. Lovett!" Sweeney roared at her. They could not take the chance to stop for too long. "We've got to keep moving!"

Mrs. Lovett was so winded that she could not even respond. She merely nodded weakly, not agreeing with him at all, and continued to run.

They ran for another half hour before Mrs. Lovett had to sit down. She was not in shape, and her boots were not ones made for such an activity. She slid down the wall, wiping the sweat off her face. The sounds of the sewers were prominent all around: the scurry of creatures, the occasional _drip drip_ of suspicious liquids, the rumble overhead of passing carriages . . .

"Come, Mr. T," she gasped. "Jus' a couple o' minutes o' rest."

Sweeney was quiet for a while, then finally grunted 'yes' in reply. He sat down next to her and rested one arm on his raised knee.

"So," began Mrs. Lovett, "where are we headed?"

"Wales," said Sweeney without a second thought.

Mrs. Lovett was shocked silent for a couple of moments. "_Wales?!_" she squeaked incredulously. "You're proposin' we bloody _walk_ to bloody _Wales?!_"

"No, I'm actually proposing we run. Much faster." Mrs. Lovett wailed in frustration. Sweeney offered her a sidelong smirk, which was quite unsettling. It was the first time she's seen him make a joking expression. "Don't worry, we'll take stops along the way. It's just that, if we're out of the country, there's nothing he can do to us."

She had to admit it made sense. But still; _Wales? _She shook her head in resignation. It was not as if she had another choice.

"Have we got any money?" asked Sweeney after many moments of silence.

Mrs. Lovett reached into her bodice and produced the purse she had swiped from Pirelli, which now seemed like a lifetime ago. She opened it up and frowned. "Only a pound, and eighteen shillings, and . . ." she peered deeper into the tiny purse, ". . . and three pence."

"That'll have to do," said Sweeney. He looked over at Mrs. Lovett, who was still breathing heavily. "Ready to go?"

Mrs. Lovett glared at him. "Honestly, love, we've been running for hours now. I think if they were going to catch us, they would've by now."

"Fine, we don't have to run anymore. But we should still keep moving."

As much as she did not want to, Mrs. Lovett nodded and carefully stood up. Looking down at her belly, she said, "It's been an awfully strange four months."

"That is has, Mrs. Lovett." She looked up into Sweeney's face, and found that he was staring at her with a peculiar expression on his face. Something in the middle of resignation and . . .

Sweeney's lips were on hers before she could finish her thought. At first it seemed as if she could not formulate any thoughts. She stood there numbly, as if someone had just accidentally brushed against her shoulder while they were passing through. It took a couple of moments to realize what was happening. That Sweeney was kissing her. Sweeney Todd, the man whom she has loved for as long as she could remember. He had never, _ever_ kissed her before. Even during their certain . . . rendevous . . . he had been careful not to touch her with his lips.

She began settling into the kiss, feeling the warmth as it spread from her face throughout her whole body. Slowly, carefully, she reached up with her left hand and brought it to the back of his neck, applying a tiny amount of pressure, pushing him just a touch more to her. He brought his hands to her waist.

"Mr. Todd," she breathed into his mouth. Suddenly everything seemed very trivial. Being imprisoned, being pregnant, running away from her home and the only city she has known. Unimportant. The only thing that mattered now was what was happening. The only thing that mattered was that they were together.

Finally, they broke apart, each gasping for breath. Both their eyes were filled with lust and anticipation. They both wanted more, but this was no place for that.

They began walking again, neither saying a word. Neither needed to. Finally, Mrs. Lovett said very quietly, "Do you suppose it's dark yet?"

"Maybe," replied Sweeney. They kept walking until they came upon a sewer lid. Sweeney climbed up the ladder, lifted the lid cautiously, and peeked out. Indeed, it was pitch black, and it seemed as if no one was walking around whatever town they had stopped in. He looked down and motioned for Mrs. Lovett to climb up, exiting the sewers himself.

"What is this place?" Mrs. Lovett whispered. Sweeney shrugged and looked around. In the distance, he saw what looked like an inn of some sort, but he could not read the lettering on the sign in the front. He took Mrs. Lovett by the hand and proceeded carefully towards the building.

When they were close enough, he was able to read the words _Holly Branch Inn – The Best Place to Stay in the town of Holly Branch! _

_Holly Branch?_ thought Mrs. Lovett to herself. She had never heard the name before, but she took this as a good sign. In looking around, she found that the town was tiny, with small streets and only one or two markets. This place did not seem very connected with the outside world, which was just what she and Sweeney needed. It was an excellent hideout.

Sweeney pushed the door open and they stepped into the tiny building. There was a man with thick, round glasses and fair hair asleep at the counter, his feet propped up onto the desk.

"Excuse me, sir," said Sweeney in a firm, loud voice. The man's eyes immediately snapped open, and with one look at the unruly looking couple before him, started becoming very flustered.

"Oh! Goodness me. I'm sorry, how incredibly rude of me! Ah, let's see 'ere . . ." he began moving papers around his desk, looking for something. "You'd of course like a place to stay, right, my good sir?"

"Yes, me and my, er, wife," his voice wavered as he spoke the lie, "need a place for the night."

The man found a very old-looking brass key and placed it at the top of the counter. Then, he took out a big record-keeping book and flipped it open.

"Your names?"

The two partners in crime exchanged a quick glance, then Mrs. Lovett said as naturally as if she were telling the truth, "We are the Faradays. Nora and Jacob Faraday."

Sweeney appreciated her creativity. She did not even hesitate.

"Faraday, eh? Any relation to the great chemist and physicist?" The man smiled and scribbled down their names.

Mrs. Lovett laughed cheerily and waved one hand in the air. "Oh, surely that would be an honor. But no, no relation."

"Well, there's your key. Your room number is 204. Enjoy your stay in Holly Branch!"

Sweeney grabbed the key without a word as Mrs. Lovett followed after him, tossing a grateful smile over her shoulder at the man.

They entered their room – a small but cozy arrangement of a table, a mirror, and . . . one bed. Mrs. Lovett walked over and sat on the comforter. She looked at Sweeney, who was looking exceptionally paranoid and stiff, even for him.

"What is it, love?" she asked softly, not wanting to jar him out of his thoughts.

"Don't you think it strange," he said lowly, "that the man did not even remark on our appearance, or lack of luggage? Or that we came at practically one in the morning?"

Mrs. Lovett thought it over, and realized that yes, it was quite strange. "Maybe they get a lot of people like us," she offered.

"Or, the Judge followed us here and actually has a dozen of constables patrolling the house, ready to take us at any moment."

"That's impossible! They couldn't 'ave followed us, they didn't even know we went through the sewers!"

"Unless someone told them." He raised one eyebrow, and she knew that he meant Toby. But she did not want to think that Toby, her darling boy, would rat them out.

"I don't believe it," she said.

"We have to get out of here."

"_More_ running?" cried Mrs. Lovett, exasperated . "But we just got settled down! Come, love. Don't be so paranoid." She reached for his arm, grabbed it, and pulled him towards her. "Rest for a bit, please. We'll leave at first light, I promise." With a sigh, he sank down into the bed beside her, paranoia running rampant in his mind.

After only a few moments, the soft sounds of Mrs. Lovett's deep breathing signaled to him that she was asleep. He, however, barely closed his eyes.


	23. Guilty

**A/N: Kay, warning you, the pacing's weird in this chapter. But I'm trying to finish it by the next chapter. **

**Sorry for the long-time-no-update, but man, they were not lying when they said Junior year is a lot of work.**

**Disclaimer: The only things I own are Reese and the town of Holly Branch.**

Toby watched helplessly as the only person to show him any motherly affection ran off with her mass murderer lover. He took deep breaths to stop the tears from coming, but they still spilled mercilessly down his cheeks. A soft hand gently touched his shoulder.

"It's alright, Toby," whispered Johanna. "It'll be okay."

"She was . . ." sobbed Toby, "she was like me mum, she was. Never knew me real parents . . ."

"I never knew my parents, either," said Johanna, hoping this would somehow calm the small boy down.

"We really must go," interrupted Anthony. He bounced worriedly on his heels. "The Judge is bound to show up here at any moment."

"Where will we go?" asked Johanna. She still had her hand on Toby's shoulder.

Anthony stopped to think. "I know a man in Wales who might take us in, give us some shelter for a while. We could go by boat. I'm sure there's a cargo boat en route to there."

Both Toby's and Johanna's eyes glistened with fantasies. Neither of them had ever been outside of London. To leave the country entirely would be a dream come true.

"But I'm warning you," said Anthony, suddenly serious. "A sailor's life is not luxurious at all. Johanna, you will have to dress up as a man. And you will both need to take precautions – do not trust anything any of the sailors might say. They tend to 'joke' a lot, but it's really not all that fun. Also, there is more than likely going to be bad weather. Just be prepared."

After Johanna found some men's clothing and changed, with Toby and Anthony's backs turned, they made their way to the shipping ports, conspiratorially dodging behind houses whenever they thought someone was following them. Finally, they arrived. Toby stared with awe at the large white sails billowing in the wind. They looked like giant monsters from the sea, ready to devour any poor soul that would walk along its deck.

But they were magnificent.

The trio managed to purchase tickets for their passage with little trouble. They had lucked out; there were no cargo ships available, but a passenger ship was headed towards America, and would be making a stop at Wales beforehand.

**ooooooooooooooo**

Johanna leaned over the side of the ship and expelled the contents of her stomach, which was not very much to begin with, into the waves below. She coughed, wiped the side of her mouth, and turned to Anthony. He smiled apologetically.

"Sorry," he said. "But I told you." He looked to the sky and frowned at the dark clouds. "The water's beginning to get a bit choppy . . . we might be hit by a storm. You should go below deck."

Johanna huffed. She may have been abused all her life, but she was still brought up in a wealthy home, and was not accustomed to the stenches and overcrowding of the boat. "It's terrible down there. I feel as if not one inch of my skin is safe from being pushed up against someone else's."

"I know, but we'll be in Wales soon. I promise."

**oooooooooooo**

It was near the end of the first week, and Toby was just about sure he was going to go crazy. It had rained non-stop for almost five days, and although the sun was out now, he still felt the stickiness of salt on his skin. Everyone was packed together, and it seemed like there would be no relief soon. All he could see were vast expanses of sea. Wave after wave, endlessly spanning.

The worst thing, however, was having nothing to do. So he occupied his time with thinking. He thought mostly about Mrs. Lovett, about how she was, where she was, and whether Mr. Todd had been mean to her or not. Most of his dreams were about Mr. Todd beating Mrs. Lovett until she could no longer move, grinning like a madman the whole time he did it. He would wake up with tears in his eyes and lie awake for the rest of the night.

After a while he began seeing his dreams as premonitions, and so Toby came upon a decision. Once they were in Wales, he would leave and find Mrs. Lovett. Then, he would take her with him and they could both move in with Johanna and Anthony, and he'd take care of her and the baby forever. He knew he was young, but he felt as if he had a debt to pay to the only woman who showed him any affection.

And so that was his plan.

He just hoped he knew how to find her . . .

**oooooooooooo**

At last, the trio reached Wales. While Anthony was as bright and upbeat as ever, his two counterparts were less off. Johanna looked sallower and more sickly than ever, her pale skin looking washed out. Toby had bruises around his eyes, and though they were mostly from his lack of sleep, he blamed it on not having enough to eat.

Anthony never lost hope. "We'll reach my friend's house by the end of the day if we start walking now!" he cried. Johanna and Toby, who were both strong individuals, but lacked the adventurer's endurance, complained that they were too fatigued to go on today, so they found an inn and used what little money they had to buy a room for all three of them. There was only one bed for two, which Anthony and Johanna shared shamelessly, leaving Toby to sleep on the floor. The young boy had another sleepless night. He listened to the soft snores of Anthony and the deep breathing of Johanna until the first light of day shone through the windows.

**ooooooooooooo**

Anthony's friend was boisterous and loud, but kind and welcoming. His name was Reese, and he brought them into his home with no questions. As the tea boiled, he showed the trio to the rooms they could use. His house was large, and he was already renting it out to other couples. "The little boy can have his own room," he said, looking at Toby. "But once I get more demand he'll have to share with you and the girl. Can't waste a room for just one little boy." He barked out a laughter and ruffled Toby's shaggy hair, making the boy cringe.

Toby wondered when he would tell Anthony and Johanna that he was leaving, then decided it would be better if no words were said. So, late that night, he slid down his make-shift rope made out of bed sheets and slipped into the darkness. He had taken a little of Anthony's money to sustain himself, not leaving any sort of note. The oblivious sailor would probably think he had just misplaced it.

And thus began his journey.

**oooooooooooo**

Sweeney could not comprehend their choice. Or, more accurately, he could not comprehend Mrs. Lovett's choice, or his choice to follow. But here they were, still nearly two weeks later, and the two of them were still living in Holly Branch.

The name itself should have tipped him off to the sickening sweetness of the town, but its inhabitants were even more evidence. Everyone was nice, no one gossiped. No one even made one suspicious remark about the newly arrived Faraday couple. The whole town welcomed them as if they were old friends.

It made Sweeney incredibly uncomfortable, but Mrs. Lovett ate it up like a baby.

"Oh, 'ow lovely everyone is! I could live 'ere forever, I could," cried Mrs. Lovett one afternoon.

"Please don't dash my hopes of leaving," grumbled Sweeney.

But after a while, he began feeling himself assimilating into the town's nature. He was less brash, less rude, and even said good morning to some of the townsfolk. He was transforming into a whole new person.

Or maybe, a whole old person.

Sometimes Sweeney wondered if Benjamin Barker were resurfacing, if the days of killing people, of seeking revenge, were over. There were days where he would forget to think about the Judge, and other days where he could not even remember Lucy's name.

With every day that Mrs. Lovett grew larger, Sweeney grew kinder. His fatherly instincts were kicking in, and he felt himself going soft. Before long, the world became a misty haze where he felt he was lost to the whims of Mrs. Lovett and the child growing in her belly.

Mrs. Lovett was noticing this change. At first, she was delighted beyond all imagination. She woke with a smile on her face, and her eyes looked brighter each day. She had previously thought this child had been a curse, but now she was certain it was a blessing, for without it she would have never been alone like this with Sweeney, or seen him behave this way. Everything was a cloud of bliss.

However, as the months passed she began to feel her conscience digging into her mind, biting at her soul, making her feel heart feel black and rotten. At the start she had no idea why she was feeling this way, but then she understood – she was lying to Sweeney. His wife was still walking on the streets of London, very much alive, while he thought she was six feet under.

As they entered the sweltering heats of summer, Mrs. Lovett could barely contain herself from shouting the truth at him. _Your wife is alive, you fool! Why are you with me?_ often cried her subconcious. But the baby was soon on its way, only a couple of more weeks, and she hoped by then her mind would be too preoccupied with taking care of the child to think of such matters.

Oh, how she hoped . . .

**A/N: Like I said, next chapter will probably be the last. I've had a ton of fun writing this, but I have putting it off, and I've got the best ending in mind. Oh yes, it's going to be quite the shocker ;). **

**Enough foreshadowing, please review! **


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